Through Trials and Tribulations
by closetfan
Summary: Re-posted by request. It doesn't take a supervillain to take out a superhero. complete! Please R&R.
1. Death of a Spider

Denouncement: I do not own Spiderman/Peter Parker nor MJ. I would like to thank Stan Lee and Marvel Comics for allowing me to write fanfiction about them. However I do own the storyline and the rest of the characters.

NOTE: Author is a neat freak, if reviews indicate story is trash, the trash will be taken out. They do not want to litter fanfic with garbage.

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Today Peter Parker was wearing a silly grin on his face as he headed for school. Although he was late again for class and exhausted from his webslinging night, he was thinking about MJ. At least one of the tribulations of his life had been remedied. Juggling his superhero life with his day to day existence became easier once MJ found out about his secret. Even though Dr. Connors, who he had again this semester, was threatening to fail him, Peter just couldn't shake the elation he felt. Over the many months that have past since she first found out, she was able to handle his lifestyle easily but more importantly, she stayed out of harm's way.

He was zipping in between cars of the parking lot better known as the New York City streets when he almost ran over a traffic cop. He slammed on the brakes and the rear end of the scooter tilted up then slammed back down from the momentum. "I've got to stop doing that," he thought, remembering numerous other occasions that his daydreaming of MJ had caused him to barely miss crashing into someone or something.

"What's the problem?" Peter asked.

"Can't go this way," the cop stated distractedly.

"But I have to get through, I have a class. I just need to go around the corner to the University." Peter pleaded.

The officer, finally focusing on Peter stated, "There's no class today, son. A sniper has taken over the College Square."

Peter at first just stared at him in disbelief. His good mood just flushed down the toilet. In a typical nerdy question he asked, "What do you mean a sniper has taken over the Square?"

The cop looked at him with a _you__'ve got to be kidding _glare.

Realizing the absurdity of the question, Pete quickly guided his bike over to the side of the road and locked it to a lamppost. With most other people's attention elsewhere he headed for the nearest alley. He thought to himself as he yanked open his shirt, "Isn't this what Superman always did? Run through a dark alley, ripping his shirt open to expose his supersuit?"

By the time he finished that thought, he was shooting his first web towards the heavens.

It took just a few swings to reach the roof of the tallest building in the Square. He had landed quietly not knowing if the sniper was on this roof or not. Slinking around he checked the access to the roof and a few other cubbyholes where someone could hide. When he was satisfied that he was alone, he stole over to the edge and peered over.

"Oh, my God," he said softly to himself as he looked at the carnage below. There were at least 11 bodies scattered about the ground. A few were still moving, writhing in pain, but most of them were dead still. He hoped that they were just still and not dead. He snapped himself away from looking at the slaughter and started to scan the entire area looking for the shooter. He looked for open or broken windows and stared down into dark crevices and shadows. But he couldn't locate the maniac with the gun.

Spidey couldn't pick out a thing from his vantage point. The gunman had stopped firing but it wasn't because he was loading his gun. With his spider sense on full blast he would have been able to hear that, but he didn't. However, he could still sense the guy. He was around but where was he hiding? The webslinger looked into as many windows of the surrounding buildings as he could. He even checked the thick surrounding shrubbery.

Thinking that maybe the lunatic was inside the building he was on top of, Spiderman decided to change his vantage point. He chose a walkway that bridged two of the campus buildings that were separated by a small but deep river. He webbed over to it and landed in his signature crouch, his left knee almost in his armpit, and his right leg outstretched over the side, to keep him from sliding off the steep angle of the curved roof.

The pedestrian walkway was a glass covered metal bridge. Students would often stand and watch the rain sluicing overhead before continuing onto their next class. Some would even sit on the floor and do homework when outside was not weather friendly. When our hero landed he looked down in horror as he surveyed the damage. On his flight over he had noticed several bullet holes in both the top and bottom halves of the walkway. What he saw stole his breath from him. There were several students lying on the floor, bloody and in need of help, There were several more comforting them, hidden behind the safety of the non-transparent bottom panels.

"Bastard!" he growled and scanned the area again. He studied the building that he had just come from. The shooter had to be there, how else would he have missed him? Again he glanced at the clock tower that was directly across from him noting that would be a good ambush place. But he saw and heard nothing. He had studied it several times already in his search. But the only thing he heard were the soft cries from the injured.

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Janine was holding the hand of one of the sniper's victims when she heard a thump overhead. She was in the walkway and hunkered down as close to the floor as she could get. She was afraid to move, to even look up in the direction of the noise thinking that any movement might give away her position. But curiosity still got the better of her and she looked up through the glass. A smile creased her face when she saw the reason for the noise. Gazing back down at her friend, she squeezed his hand and said, "Hold on Mark, Spiderman's here. He'll take that guy out then we can get help up here. Just hold on a little longer."

Turning to the others who were all crouched down and unmoving she whispered loudly, "Spiderman's here!" She heard several cries of relief.

When she looked back up at the hero, she realized with horror that Spiderman didn't know where the gunman was. He was still searching the grounds. Banging on the glass with the palm of her hand, she screamed, "He's in the tower! Spiderman, the sniper's in the clock tower!"

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Except when loved ones were involved, Spiderman rarely let his emotions get in the way of his work. But this time he was mad; livid at the useless bloodbath. He raised his fisted hand and screamed out, "Where are you?!" He was thinking of the next location where he should head when he was distracted from his search by pounding from someone below him. Realizing his name was frantically being called he tore himself away from the hunt. He gazed down and saw a hysterical woman yelling at him banging the glass. At first he didn't get what she was saying. Then his breath caught in his chest when he realized what she said. Already knowing it was probably too late, he snapped his attention over to the tower just in time to see the shooter fire.

The force of the blow knocked him back and he sat down hard, but he quickly pushed himself back up onto one knee, the other leg still supporting him against the curve of the roof. Instinctively he started firing web balls at the assailant as fast and furious as he could. The adrenaline was coursing though his system fueled by his anger. He thought he saw the gunman go down after taking a hit in the head, but the young hero didn't stop. He continued to pummel the corner of the building until several of the supports gave way causing the roof to collapse onto the landing which hid the madman. Only when he had obliterated the corner of the building did he cease his web attack. Remaining still, but breathing hard, he studied the tower for any signs of movement.

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With horror, Janine saw Spiderman fall back, but when he rebounded so quickly she thought he was ok. She watched him spew web ball after web ball. Then rising up, barely peeking through the glass, Janine watched the assault on the clock tower. She was sure she saw the gunman go down. He got it dead center in the middle of his forehead. Then upon the collapse of the overhang she turned to her fellow victims and yelled, "Spiderman got him. Spiderman got the sniper!" They all started clapping and cheering and several of them rushed the windows.

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Just seconds after the barrage against the tower ended, Spiderman started to feel his world fold in on him. He knew he had been hit, but there was no pain at first. It must have been the adrenaline rush because now he could feel the fire spreading outward from the injury. He looked down to see exactly where he took the hit and watched dreamily as blood seeped from a wound that sat high on the left side of his chest. When he brought his right hand up to explore the sticky maroon ooze he subconsciously played with the blood on his fingertips. Images around him started to swirl like cream just poured into black coffee. He was losing sense of his whole body. Then a black oily film flowed over what was left of his consciousness.

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Turning back to look up at Spiderman, Janine saw him look down at his chest. She observed as he slowly lifted his hand to a discolored area of his costume. Then in slow motion, she watched as his body seemed to melt as it slid off the roof.

"NO!" she screamed as she slammed the glass with her hand. All of the other able bodied students pressed their faces against the partition as they watched Spiderman plunge over 50 feet into the water.

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Through headphones, Kyan heard his partner say, "Please tell me you got that?"

Kyan, focused on the water for a few more seconds, panned over to the tower just as cops were dragging out the semi-conscious handcuffed lunatic, then turned off the camera.

"Yeah, I got it. I got the whole thing," he said solemnly. The News4 New York chopper team just got the exclusive video of the death of Spiderman.

Top of Form


	2. MJ finds out

MJ and her roommate, Louise, were leaving the theatre after their morning dress rehearsal. They were busy discussing the fine points needed for their grand opening in a few nights. This new play consumed them as it brought great promise of moving up to Broadway taking the main characters with it. MJ's biggest dream was having her name lit up on Broadway.

The actresses were so deeply engrossed in their new venture that they failed to notice the commotion up ahead at the electronics store, until someone nearly knocked them down getting there.

"Hey!" yelled MJ, "Watch where you're going."

"Sorry," came the reply as the young man rushed into the store.

That's when MJ caught the picture of Spiderman plastered over the huge display plasma TV sitting in the front window. She noticed several people running into the store as the television now showed what looked to be a newswoman with a still picture of Spiderman in the upper corner.

"I wonder what he did now to cause such a hubbub," she said to Louise. "He's always in the news, but I have never seen so much attention paid to it before."

Just then a young woman, with tears in her eyes came out of the store and ran into a friend of hers. Between sobs, MJ could hear her tell her friend, "He's dead. Spiderman's dead."

Mary Jane's jaw just dropped as she stood frozen in place. The two women remained locked in front of the display window watching the soundless news broadcast. Louise broke her trance first and tugged at her friend's arm, "C'mon, MJ, we are only 2 blocks from home, we can turn on the news there."

Although Louise didn't know the identity of Spiderman, she was aware of a special bond between them. MJ had been plastered all over news with the Green Goblin and Doc Ock incidents, so Louise knew that he had saved her life several times. She also received hints of other occasions that something may have happened, but MJ was mute on those. She even suspected at times that MJ actually knew who Spidey was. But no matter what, Louise did know that the news hit MJ hard. She gently, but firmly grabbed Mary Jane's upper arm and forced her away from the thickening crowd. Suddenly the sidewalks seemed packed with people as she tried to get MJ home. They were being jostled and pushed and felt like they were salmon swimming upstream against an impossible current.

When they reached the front door to their building, the doorman tipped his hat and opened the door for them. "Good day, ladies. By the way, did you hear the news about…?"

Louise abruptly answered, "Yes, we did," and hustled MJ through the door and to the elevator. They lived on the 21st floor and the silent ride lasted for an eternity. Louise was worried for her friend, who seemed in a fugue.

"Maybe they're wrong," she said trying to get MJ to focus.

"Maybe" was all the response she got.

When the elevator finally opened, she guided MJ to their front door, unlocked it and went in. Louise left her roommate to follow behind as she headed straight for the television. She quickly surfed through several channels trying to find something on Spiderman and ended up on Channel 4. She sat down on the sofa and MJ just stood behind her.

They listened as the newswoman reported:

"Recapping our top story, Spiderman is dead. The News 4 helicopter obtained this exclusive footage of the event. After being severely wounded by the sniper, Spiderman valiantly continued the fight rendering the gunman unconscious. After which he immediately succumbed to his own injuries falling several stories into the river. The shooter has been taken into custody and is apparently a college student who admired the massacre at the University of Texas 10 years ago and wanted to get his name into the history books. A total of 23 people were injured but there was only the one fatality. Once again, Spiderman is dead after saving numerous people from a sniper."

The two women watched the video. It was taken from far enough away as to encompass both the bridge and tower within the same frame. Just as Janine did, MJ thought that Spiderman was unhurt at first, but then quickly realized otherwise. She turned away from the screen when he plunged to his watery grave. She slowly turned and headed towards her bedroom turning back when Louise called out, "aren't you going to watch any more?"

"I'll turn on the TV in my room and watch it in there." She closed the door behind her.

MJ stood for a moment. Her mind was empty, but full at the same time. She was confused. She was in denial. When her legs gave out, she landed on the bed and buried her face in the pillows. Barely a sound was heard, but the heaving of her shoulders gave away that she was bawling. She didn't want Louise to hear her cry. She didn't want to appear more upset than she should be. Unfortunately now was when MJ needed to put on her best acting. After all she was supposedly enamored by the young hero for saving her life. She would need to look the part of someone who lost a rescuer, not a lover, fiancé and future husband.

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By late afternoon Mary Jane has cried herself dry. She sat on the edge of her bed still in shock. She didn't know if she should tell her friend that the man who died today was also her fiancé, Peter. It would explain how she was acting, and his identity being a secret was a moot point anyway. But, she clung to the thin web of hope that maybe he still was alive, thus still needing to keep the secret. Not to mention, she didn't need the media attention of being Spiderman's woman. Not right now. She went to her makeup mirror and stared at the sallow figure looking back. She can't look like this in two days, not for opening night.

She rubbed her temples.

Placing her hands on the vanity, looking at all her makeup, the everyday stuff and her heavier theatrical paint, she decided to try to put on her best performance now. She could still be upset, but she needed to tone it down to fit the "he rescued me" love for Spiderman. Mechanically, she started with foundation and applied an even light coating and continued from there. When she had finished she looked at the sallow figure again in the mirror. "Humph!" she thought to herself, "the makeup didn't hide a thing, I still look awful." She took a deep breath, got up and left her room.

She found Louise sitting with the TV off, reading a book. "Feel like going out for a bite, Lou?" she asked. "I need to get some fresh air."

Yeah, sure thing, MJ, just let me put on a fresh face and decent clothes.

The two friends headed out for an late lunch or early dinner, however you wanted to look at it, and started to walk automatically to the Chinese restaurant which was MJ's favorite. But she stopped suddenly, remembering that was the last place she and Peter ate. "Let's try something new and exotic. There is a new Azerbaijani place that opened up just a few blocks from here." Louise was agreeable to anything right now, just to please her close friend.

At the table, conversation had been very superficial, nothing like what Louise and MJ usually share. With her plate half empty and pushed aside, MJ was playing with her drink. Studying it as if it contained the purpose of life. Then without thought and unable to hold back, she blurted out. "He kissed me. Did you know that?"

Louise didn't know whether to respond or just remain silent. She chose silence.

"I had just finished trying out for a soap opera, on my way home, when I was attacked by a gang of thugs and he saved me." She looked up from her glass and into Louise's eyes. "I called him my superhero stalker," she said with a sad smile. Gazing back down into her drink she continued, "He was hanging upside down."

She paused.

"I pulled his mask off…."

She paused.

Louise was so unprepared for that, she exclaimed, "You took his mask off?! What did he look like?"

MJ looked up at Louise, and hesitated. She was ready to tell her that it was Peter, but held back. That thin webbing of hope. "I didn't take it off, I only removed enough to expose his mouth."

She took a deep sigh. "It was pouring rain and we were both soaked to the skin. It was the sexiest kiss I have ever had."

A tear rolled down her cheek.

Louise took one of MJ's hands into both of hers and held tightly. "I understand. Do you know if he felt the same way?" she asked.

MJ started to nod 'yes' then just kind of swiveled her head and said, "I don't know. I fantasize that he did."

Louise just held her hands for a while, not knowing what to say with this new revelation. She wanted to ask for more details, but decided that now wasn't the time. After sitting in silence for a few minutes, she said, "Listen roomy, it's almost 6:00 and we have a lot of work still to do to get ready for the show. And with that puffy face of yours it would be a very good idea if you get to bed at a decent hour tonight. Let's say we go home?"

Mary Jane looked at her good friend and agreed.

MJ was feeling exhausted when they got home and thought early to bed was the best offer of the day. She turned to Louise and said, "I'm going to work in my room for a while, then hit the sack early. See you in the morning. Oh, and by the way, thanks."

Louise nodded and Mary Jane headed towards her room.

She gasped when she opened the door.


	3. Is there a doctor in the house?

Louise turned around in her seat and asked, "What's wrong?"

Closing her door slightly and looking back at Louise, MJ hesitated, "Oh, uh… I didn't realize how messy my room was and I think Peter is coming over tonight. Didn't mean to startle you."

"Gee, the way you sounded I thought there was a huge spider sitting in the middle of your bed or something." Then realizing what she just said about spiders, apologized, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

But it fell on deaf ears as MJ entered into her room and quickly shut the door. She stood there in shock. She pinched herself to see if she was dreaming. It hurt so she guessed that she wasn't. Could this be a hallucination brought on by devastating grief? She just stared at what was in front of her. Little did Louise know how close she came to the truth.

Spiderman laid face down across her bed. His eyes were closed. His hair was damp and disheveled and his mask was on the floor by the window. She quickly knelt on the bed and leaned over him, "Peter?"

When she didn't get a response, she gently took hold of his left shoulder and rolled him onto his back. Reacting to the pain, he hissed out a half muffled scream and grabbed at his wound with his right hand. She covered his mouth with her hand and looked towards the door, listening. But the music that Louise was listening to must have muted the sound. Turning back to Peter, who was still not fully conscious, she saw for the first time the blood on his chest and the large red stain on her bedspread.

"Oh my God, Pete, I'm so sorry. I didn't know." Pausing to look at the injury, she said, "We need to get you to a hospital," and she reached for her cell phone. But she never got the call out as he grabbed the phone from her hands.

"No hospital," he whispered coarsely.

"Peter, you have to go. You can go as yourself. We'll make up something, like a drive by shooting," she argued knowing all gun shot wounds are reported to the police.

He simply shook his head, 'no'. Then after a pause he murmured, "Too complicated. The police will eventually figure out it was a lie."

MJ thought about it and realized he was right. They would have to come up with a location where it happened, a time and some sort of evidence, like his blood or a bullet casing. And the police would want to know what they were doing in that area when the crime occurred and of course there are usually witnesses. It was too complicated. Then suppose they do catch some poor fellow who fits the description that she made up?

Her brow furrowed as she tried to think of a reasonable excuse. Then she brightened, "You're a student at the college where the sniper hit. Why can't we just say you were one of his victims, too?"

At first she thought that maybe he had passed out because he was so quiet and his eyes were closed. But then he answered hoarsely, "So why would you be bringing me in now, instead of me going in an ambulance that was probably sitting there waiting to transport us victims? It's been over 8 hrs since the shooting. Why did I wait so long? And then shouldn't my clothing have a bullet hole and blood on it? Well I guess we can fake that. But when the cops finish their investigation, they're going to know exactly where everybody was when they were shot. What am I going to say, I was on top of the gateway?" He snorted at that remark which sent him into a spasm of coughing. That in turn shot fire throughout his chest from the wound. He fisted a wad of bedspread and bit down on it to hold in the scream.

MJ, worried, waited until the pain subsided a bit. But then frustration started to seep in and she screamed in a whisper, "Ok, everyone knows that Spiderman was shot. The whole world knows he was shot. It's spattered all over the news. So what's wrong with going to the hospital as Spiderman?"

"I need surgery. They are not going to keep my mask on during that, and even if I can persuade them to, it will be a media circus. Someone will get to me there, either to unmask me or kill me."

"And maybe having a media circus isn't a bad thing. Think of all the security it will invoke."

He looked at her, "You're not serious?"

Realizing the danger in having the media find him, she shook her head 'no', "But we've got to do something. I'm not going to stand by and watch you bleed to death all over my bed," she said getting very irritated.

Peter turned his head and looked over at the large blood stain he had caused. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your bedspread. I really shouldn't even be here." He forced himself up to a sitting position and scooted over to the edge of the bed. He rested a moment then tried to stand up.

Harsher than she planned, she pushed him back to sitting, "I'm not worried about the blood stain, idiot! I'm worried about you!" Then she plopped herself down next to him and in a softer tone, asked, "Is there any doctor you have saved in the past that might be grateful enough to help?"

He shook his head, "I never hung around long enough to socialize."

They sat side by side in silence, Mary Jane trying to think of a solution to the problem and Peter fading. He was starting to lean on her as the little strength he had continued to drain away. Suddenly MJ got up off the bed and he started to topple over. Even though he stopped his fall with his good arm, the jolt still radiated across to his bad shoulder. He uttered softly, "Owwww" as he righted himself. MJ came back quickly with a book and sat back down next to him. He looked at the large book on her lap. It took him a second through the brain fog to realize what it was, and then he looked up at her, "You kept a scrapbook of me?"

He saw her blush and a small smile creased her face, "Yeah."

She started to flip furiously though all the pages back and forth. Her frustration showing, she turned the pages ruthlessly, almost tearing some of them. "I know I saw it in here somewhere."

She fanned the pages roughly forwards, then back. "Where is it?" she said angrily.

Peter just sat there, light headed, watching her man-handle the book. He was jolted back into focus when she yelled, "Here!"

He watched as she ran her hand across the words and she mumbled to herself reading them. "Here, here, I knew I read it somewhere," she said jabbing the print with her finger. She then read to him what she found, "Let's see, Spiderman saved..yadda, yadda, yadda, uh, Dr. Carl Jackson wanted to thank Spiderman for saving his life, but the webslinger had already disappeared. He was quoted as saying, 'Spiderman, I hope you read this and get my message. If ever you are in need of a doctor, I am here anytime, day or night, no questions asked.' The reporter asked if he was serious, and the doctor acknowledged that he was dead serious. There's more, but that's all we need to know."

MJ looked up, "There, you see, you DID save a doctor and he wants to help." she said triumphantly.

Peter just sat there cradling his injured arm. He was wary of the proposition but he seriously needed help. "Suppose it's a trick or a ploy to get media attention?"

"It's a clinic, Pete, in a not-so-nice part of town. I doubt it. Besides, they get all sorts of people without real names or addresses. We can blend in there. You keep your outfit on under your clothes except your mask. When we get there I'll give a false name, then when we're alone with the doctor, I'll grill him. You can make the decision at that point."

Peter just nodded. He didn't have enough energy to argue anymore. It was either that or bleed to death all over MJ's bed.

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They sat rocking quietly in the car, the lights periodically blinking off as the subway hit dead areas. MJ scanned the few other people in there as Peter leaned against her, head on her shoulder. He was wearing a coat with the collar up, and a baseball cap pulled way down over his eyes. You could see very little of his face. But she wanted to make sure that no one was scrutinizing them. She was very worried about her fiancé. When she would periodically brush a lock of hair off his face, she could feel how cold and clammy he was.

"You still with me, Tiger?"

He just nodded 'yes'.

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The bus was crowded, but luckily there was a seat left. She led Peter to it and he just about crumbled into it. She stood next to him holding onto the center bar. She ignored the glares he got from people who still thought a man should stand and let the woman sit. No way was she going to have Peter stand in such an unsteady environment. He couldn't even stand on solid ground for more than a minute much less a moving bus for 10.

She leaned down close to his face and whispered, "Do you think you can walk three blocks?"

He just nodded 'yes'.

She pulled the cord to signal their stop and when the bus halted, Peter stiffly got up, hissing under his breath. She supported him under his good arm and they headed towards the door. She heard whispers of '…not a gentlemen' and '..whatever happened to manners" as they exited. It just made her steam, and she wanted to go back onto that bus and tell them just who that was and why he sat down. But she bit her tongue and walked away, head up.

When she looked in the direction they were headed, it was probably going to be the longest walk she had ever taken. Aside from the fact there are no blocks bigger than a NY City block, this was not the safest neighborhood. Being November, the sun was gone even though it was still early in the evening. She hoped, the worst of the nasties weren't out and about yet.

"How are you holding up, Pete?" she asked after the first block.

"How much further?" he responded.

"Two more of these blocks."

Pete stopped, looked around the neighborhood and decided that sitting down to rest was not an option. "I guess I have to hold up."

Peter's Spider sense had been dulled by the trauma, he didn't get warned until it was too late. Two men walked out in front of the couple and blocked their path. "Oh, great," was all Peter could say.

"Well, ain't she the pretty one?" Peter heard one of them say. The other just laughed. Peter was trying to think through his cloud enshrouded brain when one of the men went after MJ. The other went after him. Pete was in no condition walk, nevermind fight, but he readied himself as the thug came at him. He was able to duck under the first punch aimed at his face, but the second one landed in his midsection. A flash of blinding light from the pain overwhelmed Pete and he fell back. Through the haze, not caring about his identity anymore he sent a rock hard ball of webbing at his assailant and knocked him out cold. He was about to do the same for the one who went after MJ, but found out he didn't need to.

This is New York. Most women know self defense and MJ was no exception. No, she wasn't a 10th degree black belt in anything, but she had taken a few self defense courses. Enough for her to handle one unprepared man. A well placed kick followed immediately by her knee and her assailant was down. She quickly looked for the other one and saw that he was taken care of as well. She turned towards Peter and saw him writhing on the ground clutching his chest.

"Pete, c'mon, we only have two more blocks to go. You can do it." And she bent over to help him up. Giving him a minute to collect him she said jokingly, "Where's Spiderman when you need him?"

"Peter smiled at the joke and said, "Let's not hang around any longer than we have to." Cradling his left arm, he continued walking with his love beside him.

By the end of the second block, Peter was using MJ as a support. By the end of the third block he was glad the clinic was in sight. They entered the small building and were surprised at the cleanliness. There were a few other patients in the waiting room and MJ guided Peter to a chair farthest from anywhere. He kept his head down and his coat collar up. She went up to the nurse and gave a false name and address then sat down next to Peter, waiting to be seen.

"What did you tell her?" he asked.

"I told her you were Tommy Spinne."

"Where did you get that name from?"

"I pulled Tommy out of the air, Spinne is German for spider," she said with a smile.

He managed a weak smile, "Good one".

During their wait MJ noticed that the clinic could be redecorated to look like an old fashion western saloon that you see in the movies. All along the back wall there was an open landing on the second floor. There was a handrail to keep anyone from falling onto the reception desk. On the first floor beyond reception were several rooms and a hallway leading straight back. She assumed that the hallway led to several other rooms and possibly a back door. Upstairs behind the railing a few more closed doors were visible. She couldn't even guess what was behind those doors. Maybe homeless people who needed a night to stay after seeing the doctor? Who knows. She noticed that the hallway on the first floor was not repeated on the second, however the open hallway upstairs continued beyond the waiting room walls. So not all those rooms were visible to the patients downstairs.

After about ½ hour of waiting, they heard, "Spinne, the doctor will see you now."


	4. A secret revealed

The nurse led the couple into an examining room and spoke to Peter, "You can get undressed, the doctor will be here in a moment."

Peter just sat on the exam table head down but did nothing else.

"Young man, I need to take your vitals, please at least remove your hat and coat."

Mary Jane interrupted, "I just about had to hog tie him to get him here. He does not have a fondness for doctors. Let's leave him alone for now, maybe Dr. Jackson can relieve some of his anxiety."

The nurse looked disdainfully at MJ for a moment, then back to Peter and said, "As you wish," and left.

MJ looked to Pete, "You ok?"

He was slow to respond, "I sure hope this works. I don't think I have the strength to leave."

Mary Jane moved to a corner of the room that was most advantageous to their plan. She needed to get the doctor's back towards Peter. Quietly waiting, she just stood. The doctor was taking his time coming into the room and she was getting impatient. Watching Peter closely, she thought that maybe he was on the verge of losing consciousness as he swayed periodically.

The door finally opened and in walked a very distinguished looking African-American gentleman in his mid-fifties. He was slightly graying at the temples and mustache. He wore a blue doctor's coat with a stethoscope around his neck. Heading towards Peter, MJ stepped up and surprised him from behind.

"Say, aren't you the doctor who made the front page of the Bugle a couple of years ago?" Mary Jane asked overly enthusiastically and with a thick New York accent.

Dr. Jackson spun around, startled. Caught off guard by the hidden person and the odd question, Dr. Jackson had to stop and think. "Uh, yes, if you are referring to the robbery of my clinic."

"Yeah, yeah, but Spiderman saved you, right? You offered him free service. So, what's the gimmick? Do you call the Bugle so they can come down see who he is? Or is it a bigger TV news deal?" Mary Jane pushed. "How much are you asking to unmask the webhead?"

"Miss, I don't know what you are talking about. That man saved my life. I won't be here today to take care of your friend if it weren't for him. I have no intention of turning Spiderman in or compromising his identity. Now, speaking of your friend, don't you think it's time that I take a look at him?"

"No, wait," she said, suddenly slipping her accent. "Are you trying to tell me that you are on the up and up? No gimmicks, no questions asked."

Mary Jane was in front of the doctor who had his back towards Peter, thus blocking her view. All she could see was part of the examination table. As she continued to grill the physician, she saw the baseball cap being placed on the part of the table that was visible to her, followed by the jacket, then a shirt. She deduced that the mask was getting pulled on next. She knew by now that Peter was going to take the chance with this doctor.

"Listen, Miss, is there a reason for this interrogation? Because I don't like it," the doctor growled obviously getting impatient.

"She's only trying to protect me," said Spiderman.

The doctor did an abrupt about face and where he first saw a young man hidden behind a baseball cap and high collar coat, now sat Spiderman. Dr. Jackson's face first showed that of awe, then anger clouded over his eyes.

"What is this, some sort of joke? Because I don't think it is funny. My offer of professional care is not something to be made fun of by the media."

The doctor turned back to Mary Jane, "Who hired you do to this? Nevermind. You can take your supposedly injured friend here and get the h…"

His tirade was cut short in mid-sentence by the sensation of his stethoscope being whipped off his neck. Putting his hand back there in a reflex action, he looked back towards Spiderman and saw that he held it in his hand.

"How'd you do that?" the elderly gentleman asked.

"I'm the real thing."

"And that is real blood pouring out of his shoulder," Mary Jane interjected.

Overcoming his initial shock, the doctor realized that indeed, he had the real hero here and he was hurt.

"You should know that he's the real deal, didn't you see the news today? All day they have been replaying the scene where he got shot." MJ said almost angrily.

"I'm too busy with patients to watch TV, but you're right, I should take a look at our patient. Hold still young man." Spiderman was examined quickly as is. Dr. Jackson then asked, "Does the top come off, or is this a single unit?"

"It comes off, but I need help."

As they were taking off his top, being careful of his left shoulder, Spiderman insisted on keeping the mask on. The doctor stated, "You know, by law you are protected with doctor/patient confidentiality. I can't be forced to reveal who you are."

Spidey answered, "The people who would come after you are not interested if it's legal or not."

The doctor thought for a moment, then said, "Well, sounds like they're gonna do to me whatever they want, whether I know who you are or not, correct?"

The Webslinger nodded.

"So wouldn't it be safer for me to know who you are? You see, if you keep waltzing in here in your costume, eventually they'll see that. They aren't going to believe me if I tell them that you never revealed yourself to me. They are going to treat me as if I know. And I'll probably lose my life for it. However, if you come in here for treatment as your alter-ego, where I'm the only one who knows, who is to say you are nothing more than an ill young man?"

Spiderman sat in silence for a long time. Mary Jane looked to the doctor and just shrugged her shoulders. Dr. Jackson was just about to continue with his exam when the young man slowly raised his good hand and slipped off his mask.

"Hmmm"

Peter looked at the doctor and asked, "What?"

"You're younger than I thought."

"If I had a nickel for each time I heard that, I'd be rich."

The doctor went on, "Why don't we continue the exam? You look like you are in serious pain, Mr….Mr."

"Parker. My name is Peter Parker."

"Peter, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. Now let's see if we can fix you up."

The doctor manipulated the left arm during the examination. He could hear his patient softly groan with each movement

"You can lay back now. I am going to have to x-ray your chest to see where the bullet is."

The doctor turned to leave and glanced over at MJ. Her face was white. It was then that the doctor realized she most probably had never seen the damage done by a bullet. Peter's wound was indeed very ugly. The hole itself was small, but there was an intense purple discoloration immediately surrounding the wound. That blended into an angry red for almost half of his chest.

"Are you ok?"

MJ just nodded yes.

"People don't realize the amount of damage that can occur with a gunshot," he said, "TV has numbed people to the dangers of guns. Usually when it hits an area where there's bone, there's a lot of bruising. But I'm more concerned about the damage inside. I laugh each time I see a gallant TV hero gets shot and say, 'it's nothing, just a scratch.' Well I haven't met anyone yet who was shot that felt that way."

After a slight hesitation, she said, "I'll be fine. I just wasn't expecting it to look like that."

During their conversation, Peter looked down at himself. For the first time he too saw what he looked like. Suddenly, he felt sick.

As the doctor left, he said, "I will be back shortly with the x-ray machine. Then we'll take it from there."

MJ and Peter were alone again. She took hold of his right hand and held it tightly.

"How are you holding up, Tiger?" she asked.

"It hurts" was all he said.

"I'll let the doc know. Maybe he can give you something to ease it."

She felt his forehead; he was starting to burn with fever. But the skin was still clammy to the touch. "We'll make it through this, Pete, you just hang on."

She wasn't sure if he heard her because he didn't respond and his eyes were closed.

Within a few minutes the doctor butted the door open as he backed in pulling a funny looking machine. "You'll have to step out while we take his picture, Miss."

Mary Jane nodded, then said, "You can call me Mary Jane."

The doctor smiled, "I knew who you were. I have seen several plays that you've been in. You are quite the actress, Miss Watson. That's why I thought it was a bad joke at first." He had a soft twinkle in his eye.

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The doctor called MJ into his office. "Peter is very badly hurt, Miss Watson. He really should be in a hospital." He held up his hand to silence her almost immediate rebuttal. "I know that would jeopardize his 'occupation', and probably his life. I thoroughly understand why he can't go. I do have the facilities to perform minor surgery, although I have never tried to accomplish something quite on this scale before. But I believe I will be able to perform the needed surgery here. My nurse has agreed to stay late to assist me. Since this is going to take a few hours, I need to finish up with the rest of my patients first and get them out of the way. That should not take more than an hour, in itself. Any questions?"

"Yes, about reporting gun shot wounds to the police?" she asked.

"I am sure you got a good look at the neighborhood when you came in. I see gun shot wounds all the time. I have on occasion made the choice that in the best interest of the patient, the injury should go unreported. I will label Peter's injury as a 'broken shoulder'".

"What about getting that mixed up with real broken shoulders?" she asked curiously.

"Then I call it a fracture," he said with a smile. "Now, I should go and finish up so that we can get that young man in there fixed up."

"Doctor, he said he was in pain."

"Hmmm, yeah, I bet he is. I'll have the nurse give him something to take the edge off."

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MJ was holding Peter's hand again. He was fighting to stay awake since the nurse came in and gave him a needle. Mary Jane wasn't saying much, just holding on and mumbling words of encouragement. In one respect, she wished that they would hurry up. She could feel Peter's pain and wanted it to be taken care of. But on the other hand, she was petrified that he wouldn't make it through surgery, especially looking at the magnitude of the operation and where it was being done. And she couldn't bear looking at his chest.

The door to the exam room opened up. The doctor said, "It's time."


	5. Recovery

Mary Jane was sitting in the doctor's office at the start of the operation. They had closed the clinic for the night and turned off the lights in the waiting room so as not to attract visitors. The doctor also indicated that the furniture was a lot more comfortable in there. She had attempted to lie down to nap a couple of times on the sofa, but worry kept her awake.

Getting restless, she decided to explore the building. She had already seen the surgery which was one of the rooms on the first floor off the hallway that did indeed lead to a back door. It was an impressive modern room. She felt that Peter was in good hands. Adjacent to that was a small lab full of interesting instrumentation that she had no idea what they were used for. Across from the lab was a small kitchenette complete with refrigerator, microwave and oven. Along the same hallway was also a restroom for patients. Three of the rooms that were visible from the waiting area were exam rooms, and the last two doors at the end were locked. She suspected supply rooms.

She found a stairway and decided to visit the upstairs. The view from the banistered hallway was impressive. It didn't look that high from where she and Peter sat earlier, but from up here, it seemed like a long drop. At one end was the extension of the hallway that she didn't see from the first floor. There was a door on either side. Walking down the hall, she peeked in both rooms. One looked like a hospital room, complete with a private bath. The other looked like a private bedroom. She wondered if the doctor stayed on occasion to watch over seriously ill patients. Walking back to the open hallway she checked some of the other doors. One must have been a bedroom at one time but was used as junk storage now, another was locked and the last was an empty office. Maybe in case another doctor decided to help out with the clinic, she thought.

Having thoroughly combed the entire building, she reluctantly went back to the downstairs office. As she passed by the surgery, she hesitated outside trying to hear something, anything. She knew she couldn't go in, but she so wanted to see what was happening. Before stepping back into the office, she looked around. The place was a bit eerie with most of the lights turned off.

MJ tried lying down again thinking, 'I'm too hyped up to get to sleep'. She put her arm over her eyes to keep them closed and kept thinking it was foolish to just lie here when she wasn't sleepy.

The doctor startled her awake when he walked into the office four hours later. She quickly sat up, not realizing that she had fallen asleep after all. The clock read 1:30 AM. She looked at the doctor and couldn't tell if he was just tired or was bringing bad news. Her eyes begged for information.

"Relax Miss Watson, Peter came through the surgery just fine. The bullet bounced around a little before coming to rest. Although there was quite a bit of soft tissue damage and some bone damage, there were no major organs hit. But his blood loss was still acute. I'm not going to paint rosy picture, he is a severely injured young man and will need a lot of rest and care. But I have all the confidence that barring any complications, he should make a full recovery and get back to his superhero job."

He saw relief flow into MJ's face.

"When he wakes up, we'll bring him upstairs. He is going to spend some time here and you're welcomed to stay as well, we have accommodations. Do you want to see him now?"

Mary Jane nodded.

After taking her to recovery he said, "Call me when he wakes up," and the doctor left her in the small room off of surgery.

MJ sat beside Peter, once again holding his hand. She was expecting him to be bandaged completely around the chest and shoulder area. But all he had was a 6 inch square bandage taped onto his chest where the wound was. She still saw a lot of the bruising which made her queasy.

Peter started to squirm and tried to open his eyes. They felt like they were glued shut. When he finally pried them open, his eyes focused on an angel who had beautiful red hair framing a face of porcelain skin from which the most radiant smile glowed. She said something to him, but he couldn't quite make it out, then she left.

When MJ saw Peter coming out of the anesthesia, she beamed with joy. She told him that she would be right back, and rushed to get the doctor.

"Well Peter, welcome back. How do you feel?" the doctor asked.

"Throat sore" he croaked.

"That's because you had a tube down it to help you with breathing. Here, take an ice chip. Don't chew it, just suck on it. It will help with the sore throat and dry mouth. Now how is the rest of you feeling?"

Peter just lay there, blinking. He was trying to determine how the rest of him did feel. "I don't feel anything 'cept numbness" he responded thickly.

"That's to be expected. Enjoy it while you can, you'll be hurting plenty when the anesthesia wears off completely." Then turning to MJ the doctor said, "Can you help me roll him upstairs?"

"Roll him upstairs?" she asked confused.

"I have a small elevator off the hallway that is just big enough to hold a gurney."

MJ blushed slightly with embarrassment. They wheeled Peter out of the recovery room and down the hallway to one of the 'locked' doors. The doctor pressed what Mary Jane thought was a light switch, and the door opened to expose an elevator. Upstairs, they exited out of one of the upstairs 'locked' doors. Dr. Jackson led the wheeled bed to the enclosed part of the hallway where MJ had seen the hospital room and bedroom. After getting Peter settled in, the doctor turned to MJ. "You are most welcomed to stay. I don't know the relationship you have with our patient, but you have your choice of staying in here, that opens up into a sofa bed," he said pointing to a small loveseat, "or going across the hall to the bedroom. This part of the hallway is out of sight of the waiting room, so you will have plenty of privacy."

"I'm his fiancé" she said.

"Then I guess you'd like to stay in here. I have to stop at home for a while, but I'll be back within a couple of hours. I'll cat-nap there." He said as he nodded across the hall.

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Peter was standing on top of the gateway trying to understand what the lady below him was screaming about. He just couldn't make it out, but she was frantic. When he looked over to the clock tower he saw the sniper emerging, but he didn't have a gun. He had four mechanical arms snaking through the air 'looking' at him. The figure jumped onto a glider and headed towards him. With his heart pounding explosively in his chest, Spiderman tried to move and found that his feet were stuck fast to the glass top of the walkway. He looked back up at his assailant who yelled out in a deep gravelly voice, "It's time to die." At that moment several razor sharp blades on the glider were triggered and the 'gunman' came straight at him. He felt searing pain in his chest as the blades struck him.

Peter bolted upright in his bed, awakening from the nightmare. Sweat trickled down his face. Taking a moment to orient himself, he grasped at his chest and moaned, "That was not a good thing to do." He slowly melted back down onto the bed, trying to move as little as possible until the pain subsided. He closed his eyes and waited until it was bearable. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes and looked around the room. It looked like a hospital room, but he was sure he wasn't brought to a hospital. A lamp on the nightstand emitted a soft light, and the TV was on. He wanted to get up and look around for someone but he was still smarting from his last action. Looking side to side, he was hoping to find the call switch for a nurse, but he couldn't find it. He wondered if he was still in the clinic. He vaguely remembered a doctor's office in a not-so-good neighborhood, but it was all pretty fuzzy. Just when he was ready to give it a try and get up, the door opened up.

Mary Jane quietly stole inside not wanting to wake Peter up. She had with her a couple of pieces of fruit and a box of crackers. The doctor had told her to retrieve those items from the kitchen for when his patient woke up. She looked over at Peter and was surprised to see him awake.

"Hi."

"Hi, back," said Pete, "Where are we?"

"We're upstairs in a private room at the clinic." She looked at her watch, "It's about 2:20 in the morning." As she approached him, she saw the sweat glistening on his face, "You ok?"

"Just a bad dream." Pete didn't tell her about sitting up abruptly and wishing he hadn't.

MJ sat down in the chair next to the bed and placed the food on the nightstand. She saw Peter's attention drawn to the television when he heard his name, the 'other name'. Grabbing the remote, she went to turn it off saying, "You don't need to see that," referring to the newsflash about Spiderman's death again.

"No wait. I do want to see it."

"I don't think that's a good idea," she argued.

"No really, I can handle it."

She hesitated then put the remote down. Studying her close friend, she saw him wince when the video came to the part where Spiderman was shot. But Peter continued to watch. During the tower barrage part of the video, Peter turned to her and said, "I thought I got him, but I wasn't sure. Nailed him right in the middle of the forehead." Turning back, he caught the part where he plunged to his death. That was when she noticed him turn a shade paler than he already was.

"That's enough, Pete. I really didn't think that was such a good idea."

"MJ, I needed to see it. I couldn't remember what happened, I had to fill in the blanks. And I needed to know that I got the guy. It's amazing that none of his victims died." Then added with a smirk, "Except me."

She lightly swatted him on his good arm, "Don't say that. I hate watching that video." After a pause, she said, you know it's late, you should try to get some sleep. I need to as well."

With his eyelids already weighing a ton, he said, "You don't need to tell me twice. Fill me in on the details tomorrow." And with that he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

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Peter awoke with a start. There was something wrong. He looked over at the love seat bed and saw that MJ was sound asleep. But something was not right. That's when he heard it.


	6. A heros work is never done

Peter whispered, "MJ wake up!"

He slowly dragged himself out of bed and over to MJ. He shook her lightly, "MJ wake up."

She stirred and started to speak when he covered her mouth with his hand.

"Shhhhhh," he said as quietly as he could, "Help me get dressed".

"What are you talking about," she whispered back harshly. "Get dressed for what? You're not going anywhere."

"Keep it down. There's someone downstairs."

"It's probably Dr. Jackson. He said he would be back in a couple of hours." She countered.

"No, it's not him. He won't be trashing his own place. It's being burgled. Now are you going to help me or not?"

"No. You can barely stand never mind stop a break-in. I'll call 911 and get the police over here to do their job."

"In this neighborhood? Yeah, they'll be here alright. Besides, what if those people come up here? I doubt they are going to leave us alive to be witnesses, especially with me being such an easy target. So if you don't help me, then I will just go out there with just my mask and take it from there." He said getting angry.

Mary Jane saw the futility of this conversation. "OK, but I'm still calling the police."

"Fine. Help me first."

MJ was getting more and more upset with each movement Pete made. Just putting on his costume was excruciating and caused him to break out into a sweat. His jaw was clamped tight when she had to lift his left arm to place it into the sleeve. When he was costumed up, Peter staggered to the door. He stopped, leaned against the door jamb for a moment to rest then left. She quickly dialed 911 and pleaded for the police to get there.

Spiderman took advantage of the wall for support as long as he could. When he reached the railing, he paused. He saw one man in the waiting room ravaging the place, talking out loud and laughing. Watching him, he wondered if he really needed to do this. That guy just looked like a junkie out to find drugs and to entertain himself. No big threat. The cops could easily handle him if they came. But if that's all this guy was, then the job should be simple enough for him to handle just by webbing him up until the cops came. So Spidey climbed up onto the banister and crawled onto the wall perpendicular to the hall. He moved about 5 feet away from the railing and second floor landing. He sat on the wall looking down into the waiting room trying to rest his bad arm on his leg without it looking conspicuous.

"Hey tough guy, you know, that's not very nice to wreck someone else's place. In fact it's illegal," he said trying to put on his best smart-ass voice.

The burglar stopped what he was doing and looked up. Shocked, he screamed, "I thought you was dead?!"

"To quote somebody famous, but I don't remember who, 'the news of my death has been greatly exaggerated.'" Spidey replied. "Now why don't you take that pea shooter out of your belt and place it on the floor" referring to the gun he saw in the guy's belt.

"Ya mean dis thing?" the robber said and yanked it out with the intention of shooting the wallcrawler.

"I have had my fill of guns for today," Spidey said angrily. As he webbed the piece out of the guy's hand, another goon ducked out from under the landing with his gun pointed ready to shoot.

Spiderman saw him instantly but with his right hand already busy with the first weapon he instinctively went after the other gun with his bad arm. Pain shot throughout his left side causing him to miss. Spiderman threw his head back and growled in pain and anger. But the gunman was caught so off guard at Spiderman missing he just stood there staring at the firearm stating, "He missed. Spiderman missed me."

"That was not a very smart thing to do," Spiderman snarled and took advantage of that moment. With his good arm, he snatched the second gun away. He then pelted the guy in the head with webbing knocking him out. He then went after the first thief who had started to run. He webbed the goon's feet and yanked as hard as he could one handed. But it was enough to flip him onto his head, knocking him out as well. Looking at his handy work he said, "Now that ought to keep you out of trouble until the police arrive."

At the sound of the sirens he snapped his head up and looked out the window at flashing lights, "Gee, I didn't think they'd come, especially this fast." He shimmied back over to the landing, using the banister as a stepping stone down. His legs were starting to turn to Jell-O so he quickly made his way back to the room sliding his good hand along the wall for support. When he entered the room, MJ was sitting on the bed, fuming. He didn't like what he saw. He simply said, "Help me out of my outfit. Quickly. The cops are outside."

Mary Jane was so mad, she just said, "You want me to hurry? Ok, I'll hurry."

Peter suddenly looked at her with worried pained eyes. 'I sure hope I'm not going to regret this' he thought but said defensively, "take it easy, ok? We can argue about this later."

Although she was plenty mad, MJ still took care in removing Pete's top. Once she pulled off his pants, she quickly stuffed the outfit into the bottom of her oversize purse, hoping that the police won't find a reason to search it.

With the outfit safely hidden away, MJ went over to finish assisting Peter. He was wringing wet from the exertion. She yelled at him, "Look at you. You've got a fever again." Her anger came out in the use of too much force when helping him back into bed. So much so that he had to plead, "Stop, enough already." She stopped and looked into his eyes and immediately felt terrible. She went from angry to guilty in a nanosecond. 'Here is someone who had nothing to gain by doing what he just did, and I'm beating him up over it' she thought. But she fell short of apologizing. She just softened her attendance of him.

With the adrenaline draining out of him, he was quickly succumbing to fatigue. She just stood there and watched him fade out. 'Well at least if the cops come up here, they will see someone who really is too sick to have been Spiderman,' she mused. She sat down on the bed next to him and picked up his hand. This usually strong hand felt so weak in hers, it scared her. But the doctor assured her that he would recover fully. "Barring complications," she amused. "I think this can be considered a complication."

Suddenly a knock came at the door and she turned towards it. Her acting abilities came in handy again for she needed to pretend that she didn't know what happened out there. "Police. Open up," she heard.

She went to the door and opened it slowly. Two officers were standing outside with their guns drawn.

"Who are you, Miss and what are you doing here?" they said as they entered the room.

"I'm Mary Jane Watson and I'm here keeping my fiancé company. I was the one who called."

"Do you have identification?"

Mary Jane nodded 'yes'. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that it was in her purse. She nonchalantly turned to get her purse. But the cop stopped her from reaching into it for the wallet, "Please bring the purse over to me." She knew she couldn't hesitate for a fraction of a second as that would bring suspicion down on top of her. She quickly handed over the purse.

When the cop looked into the purse, all he saw was the solid blue of the costume leg. He grabbed it and started to pull it out. MJ quickly said, "Do you have a thing for women's undergarments?" He immediately stopped what he was doing and glanced over as his partner belly-laughed. He turned his gaze back towards MJ and searched blindly for the wallet with his hand then.

Even though he had just been embarrassed by her the cop still thought she was beautiful. 'God, she had a gorgeous smile' he thought. He focused more on her and could swear he'd seen her before. "You look familiar," he said.

MJ smiled. "Well my face is plastered on enough fences that you couldn't miss me. I'm an actress."

The cop pulled out the wallet and opened it up. He studied the driver's license for a moment, mouthing the name. He looked back up at her and said, "Yeah, I remember seeing your face." Then he looked over at Peter, who had awakened, but was very groggy. "Who's that?"

"Peter Parker."

"What happened to him?" the cop asked suspiciously.

"He fell and dislocated his shoulder. He is still under the influence of the anesthesia." She said, trying to form a story in her mind so that she could answer quickly and smoothly anymore questions that he threw at her.

"You don't need anesthesia to pop a shoulder back in," the cop said skeptically.

"The board that knocked his shoulder out, splintered. So between removing slivers of wood and putting the shoulder back, the doctor opted for anesthesia."

"What are you doing in this neighborhood? There are plenty of hospitals around that could have taken care of him."

Peter had regained consciousness, but remained still. He listened to how MJ was handling the cop.

It was obvious to MJ that the cop was highly suspicious of Peter. And for good reason. What was an almost famous actress and her fiancé doing in that part of town? But she was one step ahead of the cop. "I'm just breaking into show business, and Peter is a student. There is not much money between us, and Dr. Jackson is a friend of the family. He has offered to take care of us until we can get on our feet. Speaking of which have you contacted him yet?" MJ said, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, he should be here at any moment. I need to ask you more questions."

"Ok"

"You called 911?" he said more as an affirmation instead of direct question.

MJ nodded. "I was awakened by the noise those men were making downstairs. I cracked the door open just enough to deduce that it wasn't Dr. Jackson returning. So I called you guys. I've been hiding in here with Peter since. Did you catch them or did they leave?"

"So you didn't see Spiderman?"

"Spiderman was here? I thought he died?"

Peter almost choked.

"I did too, but the two perps, when they came to, told us that Spiderman knocked them out, even though we didn't see any evidence of the webhead," the cop explained. He continued, "So you're saying that you didn't see anything?"

Again MJ just shook her head.

"If you think of anything else that you remember, please call," and the cop handed her a card.

He then turned his attention to Peter, who now showed signs of waking up, "Where were you during all this?"

Pete blinked his rheumy eyes and slowly answered, "_All this_, what?"

"How did …."

"Enough, Officer!" called out Dr. Jackson. All heads turned in the direction of the door where the good doctor now stood. "My patient is in no condition to answer questions right now. I came back over here as soon as you guys called, only to find you harassing him when the thugs are already in custody. If you have questions that are unanswered you can come back later today and ask them. Right now I want my patient to rest."

"What's wrong with your patient?" the cop asked trying to see if he could trip up anyone and put a hole in the story.

"A dislocated shoulder with imbedded wood splinters, why?"

Failing at that endeavor, the cop gave him the once over and said, "I'll be back later." Then left.

Turning to Peter the doctor said, "And you young man, how are you doing after that little escapade?"

"I've been better."

"I thought I told you that you needed lots of rest."

"I know, but…"

"But, nothing." Then pausing a little, he continued, "I have to admit though that I really do appreciate what you did. Those two have hit me every two months for the last half year. However, I don't need to have my beautiful handiwork split open. Let me take a look at your chest."

Pete just lay quietly while the doctor examined him. "You popped a couple of stitches, but nothing that I need to repair. The others held just fine," the doctor said. "Please Peter, get some rest. If anything else begs your help tonight, let me take care of it, ok?"

Pete nodded, already slipping back into sleep.

Mary Jane stared at the doctor, "How did you know?"

"Sound travels disgusting throughout this building, I heard your explanation to the police as I was coming up the stairs. Actually, this is the first time I am grateful for that. Now, I think its time for you to get a little sleep as well Miss Watson, you look beat."

"You don't have to tell me twice."


	7. Too much for MJ

"Aunt May!" Peter screamed as he sat bolt upright. He froze for a moment, then realized what he just done. Again. Groaning deeply, he reached up to his chest. "I've really got to stop doing that," he said out loud. Mary Jane was by his side in a second. Did you have another nightmare?" she asked him as she gently lowered him back onto the bed.

Peter shook his head, "Yes, well no, it's just that I realized that I am going to have trouble explaining this to Aunt May. I was supposed to help her out tonight with packing. How am I going to hide this from her?"

"I don't know, Pete, but we'll think of something. We can work on that in the morning. You still haven't gotten more than an hour of sleep at one time and you really should be sleeping through the night," she said tiredly.

"MJ, I'm really sorry about all this." Peter said apologetically. "I really didn't mean to put you through all this stress. I'm…"

MJ's tone changed as she said, "Pete, shut up and go back to sleep. I'm not up for talking about anything right now. I have a new play opening up tomorrow night and I need to get some sleep. We'll talk about this in the morning." Mary Jane's counter was in vain as Peter had already drifted back off to sleep. The rigors of the day took its toll on him. It was also taking its toll on her. She hoped that he would sleep peacefully the rest of the night. She needed him to so that she could get some rest.

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The sun was pouring in as Peter awoke. He lay perfectly still and realized that he was not sitting up in bed cussing that it was not a good thing to do. Something he was thankful for. He looked over and saw that the sofa bed was already folded back up and there was no sign of MJ. He slowly and carefully started to get out of bed when Dr. Jackson walked in.

"What did I tell you about bed rest, Peter?" the doctor scowled.

Blushing a little he answered, "I just needed to use the facilities."

Now it was the doctor's turn to blush. "Oh, uh, do you need help?"

"No, a 10 foot stroll is a piece of cake compared to what I have been doing the past day or so." Pete said with a smile trying to make light of the situation. "By the way, have you seen Mary Jane?"

"She wanted to be here when you woke up, but she said she really needed to go to the rehearsal. Apparently tomorrow is her opening night. She'd hoped you understand."

"Understand?" Pete shook his head. "With all of the no shows I have given her, she hoped I understand?"

Once Peter made it back to bed, Carl (Dr. Jackson) brought him a bowl of soup. "Nothing fancy, just canned soup. Hope you like vegetable."

"Vegetable is just fine. You know I really don't know how to thank you." Pete said.

With a laugh, the doctor said, "Thank me? Peter my dear boy, this is my way of thanking **_you_**. You know there are many different cultures that believe once you save a man's life, his spirit is yours forever. And that's true. Everything I do, good or bad, is a direct result of your action to save my life. I hope I don't disappoint you or ever give you reason to regret that."

Peter sat stunned. He had never thought about it that way. And no one ever really thanked him quite so eloquently like that either. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so he stuffed a spoonful of soup into it instead.

"I usually have my patients up and about the next day but after your shenanigans last night I want you to stay in bed the rest of the day. If you're feeling up to it, you can come downstairs after hours this evening and join me for supper in the kitchen," the doctor invited.

Peter nodded and continued to eat. After a few more spoonfuls he suddenly looked about worried, "Where's my outfit?"

"MJ has it. That will guarantee that you don't go playing superhero on me," the doctor said giving Peter a stern look.

The young man just looked down at his soup a while before continuing to eat. When he finished half a bowl, he put it aside. Dr. Jackson had stayed with him and he seemed to want to say more. Pete just sat in bed waiting until the doctor was ready. He didn't wait long.

"In the short time that I have known you, I have learned a little bit about you. And one of those things is that you will never watch out for yourself as long as someone else is in trouble. Peter," and he paused a long while, "I took the liberty of buying you a ticket to Florida." Carl signaled to Pete to keep quiet. Sitting in silence for a moment still gathering his thoughts he went on, "My sister and her husband own a Bed and Breakfast on the Gulf that is secluded. In fact you need a 4 wheel drive vehicle to navigate the dirt roads leading up to there. No big cities, no tall buildings for you to swing from," he said looking at him with a slight smile. "Just warm sunshine and a quiet atmosphere. I told them you were coming down. You leave tomorrow."

Wide eyed, all Peter could say was, "NO".

There was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence.

It was Peter who spoke first. "I need to see MJ's new play. My aunt is expecting me over to help pack. What about my classes? I can't lose my job either, I need to pay rent." He stopped for a moment trying to think of more reasons why he couldn't go down to Florida.

The doctor rebutted, "You trusted me enough to keep your secret, now trust my medical judgment. New York needs you which is why you need to be healed 100. Imagine your encounters with the Green Goblin or Doc Ock in you present condition." There was a well placed break before he continued. "Peter, you're a very special person. Can't you see we can't live without you? That's why you must heal. Take advantage of the fact that the city thinks you're dead. Take the forced vacation."

"I can't leave."

"Why not?" the doctor demanded.

Pete sat in silence. How could he explain to him that just one life lost because he wasn't there, was one too many. He already tried to quit and crime rose 75. He found that people had put their faith in him. He can't let them down. He also feared leaving MJ just now. Her play will lock her here in the city while he was thousands of miles away. He really didn't know how she felt about the whole incident and needed to talk to her about it. He had never been this seriously injured before and he was worried about her reaction.

But all he said to Carl was, "It's complicated."

"You think about…" Dr. Jackson's sentence was cut short by a commotion downstairs. He quickly got up and left. Peter being Peter got up and followed although at a lot slower pace. He made it to the bottom of the stairs just in time to see a junkie, who was high on PCP, knock the good doctor down. Peter quickly vaulted over and slammed the head of the assaulter against the wall, putting a dent in the sheetrock. Even though it didn't knock him out, the bump on the head seemed to have knocked the fight out of the patient.

From out of nowhere a big burly man in a white suit took hold of the junkie and brought him into one of the exam rooms, while the doctor grabbed Peter's arm and dragged him into the office closing the door. "That's what I'm talking about Peter!" he yelled. "You didn't need to save me. I have a relative who is on the payroll to handle the rough patients. You haven't even been out of surgery 24 hours and you have already played the superhero twice." The doctor looks at the bandage on Pete's chest, "Damn, you're bleeding. Now get back upstairs to bed. I will have a nurse come up in a few minutes to change the dressing and take a look at the damage you just did to yourself."

Dr. Jackson stormed out of his office.

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Peter was lying in bed. How could he tell the doctor why he couldn't go? Suppose people died because he was gone. If he hadn't stopped that train, look how many people would be dead now. Suppose Dr. Jackson is burgled again while he is away? Couldn't he make the physician see that he can't leave?

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Mary Jane had a two hour break that afternoon and she dreaded what she had to do. Last night in between Peter's abrupt awakenings, she had lain away unable to get to sleep. Starting up at the ceiling all night, digesting the horrors of the past 24 hours, she felt completely drained. She was moving towards a decision she didn't want to make.

Now from the plethora of tears and the lack of sleep, her face was puffy and her eyelids felt like they were lined with sandpaper. Her rehearsal went poorly because she couldn't concentrate on anything. The director threatened to pull her from opening night if she didn't get a good night sleep and improve her appearance and attention. But visions of her husband-to-be, falling to his death, kept replaying over and over in her mind like some bizarre cult video.

Louise easily noticed the problems her friend was having and asked what was wrong. MJ decided to mix the story to fit the situation. She said that she was hit with a double whammy yesterday. After she heard the news of Spiderman she found out that Peter was seriously hurt in a fall. She spent the night in the hospital with him.

As she walked away from the theatre, she replayed what she needed to tell Peter. This was not an impulsive decision she was making. She has been thinking heavily about this for the past 24 hours. It hasn't left her mind. This was something she had to do.

Her feet felt like they were encased in lead weights as she climbed the clinic stairs. The doctor was busy with other patients so the receptionist told her to go right on up. Standing outside his room, she waited before slowly opening the door. She didn't want to wake him if he was still asleep. She was surprised however to see him looking over at her as if he was expecting her to walk through that door at that very minute.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi, yourself. You're looking pretty good, how're you feeling?" she asked wanting to get situated a little before breaking the news. She didn't want to just enter and blurt it out.

She sat on the bed next to him and kissed him softly. What he said next caught her off guard. "Something's wrong. What is it?"

It must have been the kiss. They say you can't hide anything from a kiss. She had hoped not do it as soon as she walked in the room but here was the opening. She squared herself on the bed so that both her legs hung over the side and her back was to him. Her hands were on her lap playing with the hem of her shirt as she tried to collect the words that she wanted to say to him.

"I don't know where to start. But do know one thing, Pete. I love you. And when I ended up in your doorway on my wedding day, I meant what I said, that I couldn't live without you. I feel it more now than ever."

Peter was getting a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

She continued, "But when I saw you die, I died too. In those few short hours before I found you alive, I contemplated ending my own." She looked at him, looked deep into his pained eyes. "I never fathomed what it really meant to be Spiderman's girlfriend/fiancé/wife." She paused for a long time, her voice starting to crack. "I'm sorry Peter, but I can't be with you anymore."

"No!" Peter yelled and sat bolt upright. But this time, he didn't feel the throbbing in his chest. The pain in his heart was overshadowing it.

"Let me finish," she said. "When I saw you plunge into the river, my world came crashing in on me. I always thought you were invincible. Sure you got banged up but I never really believed that you could die. Until yesterday."

She had turned away staring at her hands again, taking a deep breath before continuing, "Peter, my producer found out even before his play opened, that several backers want to take it on the road. He asked if I would be interested." Her hands were trembling. It took a long time for the words to come out. He voice wavered as she said, "I'm going to tell him 'yes'."

Peter anxiously put his hand on her shoulder, "But MJ I didn't die, I'm still…"

She continued, not listening to him, "When the tour is over, I am going to stay out in LA and try my luck in movies. That way, I will always just be separated away from you, at least in my mind. I won't be subjected to the daily bouts you have with death. And hopefully I won't learn about it either. Never again can I go through what I just went through yesterday. I would rather be permanently separated from you and remember you alive, than be your widow. She leaned over and kissed him.

On the cheek.

She got up, went to the dresser and put a red and blue object in one of the drawers, turned and walked out.

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Later that evening, Peter told Carl that he would go to Florida.


	8. Sunny Florida

Peter felt the discomfort in his chest with the change in air pressure during ascent and decent of the aircraft. But he didn't care, he was just simmering in his own misery. Leaving MJ behind and fleeing the city like this, he felt like a pup running away from a beehive with his tail tucked between his legs. He didn't much like the taste of it. The doctor had taken care of all the loose ends and excuses. He gave Aunt May a fathomable excuse, let a relative use Pete's decrepit room for the time he was gone, paying the rent and picked up two weeks worth of assignments from Dr. Connors. Carl stated that he could sit and do all the homework he wanted, he had no problem with that. In fact in encouraged it. It would keep his mind occupied, keep him from doing superhero work, and basically make him sit and remain quiet. But what Peter found harder to digest was the fact that Dr. Jackson was doing all this just because of who he was. No one ever seemed to have appreciated what Spiderman did before. That was probably the only silver lining in this whole mess.

Carl's sister Belle and her husband Judge were waiting at the airport for Peter. He wasn't hard to spot, his arm was still in a sling and he couldn't quite walk upright yet. When they went for the luggage at the conveyor, Judge made sure he grabbed the suitcase first. He didn't want Peter to carry anything. Belle's brother could not impress upon his family how important this kid was to him. She didn't know why, but Belle trusted her older brother, even though she knew that he was holding back. He did elude a little to the possibility that Peter saved his life. But the details were limited. If Carl asked her to make sure this kid took it easy so he could heal, she would do what she could to help him.

Peter watched the flat green landscape blur by as he sat in the back of the SUV. He tried to keep his mind off the pain during the rough ride. Carl wasn't kidding when he said the house was isolated and needed a dirt road to get there. Although the road was in relatively good condition, he could feel all the bumps and jolts through the stiff springs of the 4-wheel drive vehicle. After the two hour plane ride and two hour car ride, he was sore and tired. He just wanted to go to his room and crash.

"Pete," Judge said, "I wish we had a room on the first floor for you, but we do have something right at the top of the stairs for you."

Peter said "thank you," and looked around at the magnificent old Victorian. The first floor consisted of a huge living room with a fireplace to the right of a central hall. To the left was a dining room equally impressive. Beyond that was what looked like a smaller breakfast room. Straight ahead was a grand stairway that led up to the second floor. Judge carried Peter's bag up the stairs motioning him to follow. At the top, the hallway went in either direction. Peter's room was the first one on the right. Even through his misery, he was still able to appreciate his accommodations. The room was about three times the size of his apartment, and he had a private bath.

"Dinner's at 7:00, young man. Feel free to roam around and explore the house and grounds. There is a pool out to the side. The beach is several hundred yards through the woods. You can get there by a path that is wide and well marked. Carl said something about you having homework. We have a library you are welcomed to use. There are some cubies, where you can bury yourself, hidden away from others. We also have two computers in there as well. Uh, I also have a laptop if you want to work outside in the fresh air, but it's my private computer. So don't let the other guests know that. But it's yours if you'd like. If you need anything please just let Belle or me know. We were given strict orders to help you heal."

Judge gave the youth a warm genuine smile and left him to his room. As he watched him leave, Pete wondered how much Carl told his brother-in-law.

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"I'm curious, Hon, what did your brother tell you of that young man?" Judge asked his wife of 26 years.

"Not much. He just wanted to get the boy away from the city. He said that he pushed him to travel a lot sooner than he should have but he really didn't want him to stay up there. Carl did kinda hint about him saving his life. But he was so vague. And you know Carl. If he doesn't want to tell us anything a crowbar isn't going to pry it out of him."

Judge smiled at his wife's perfect analogy of her brother then said, "I wonder if Peter is in trouble. You know, he stuck his nose somewhere it didn't belong. Maybe saved your brother's life like you think. That someone was arrested, maybe is out on bail until the trial and wants to come after Peter. You think?"

Belle lifted her eyebrows and nodded. "Sounds about right. Carl is in an awful neighborhood. But he really didn't want to get into it. All I know is that he couldn't convince me enough that this is a real good kid and to treat him like family."

"Well one thing for sure, he's hurting. Couldn't even straighten up."

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Feeling the wear and tear of the past couple of days, Peter opted to take a nap. Only two days post-op, he was drained. From his disastrous relationship with MJ to the long plane and car ride he was fading fast. The little strength he had built up staying with Dr. Jackson was slowing leeching away. He undressed in the bathroom feeling awkward without his outfit which the doctor held onto 'to keep him from being a superhero'. He glanced in the mirror and winced at the reflection of his body. Bruises get uglier as they get older and his was no exception. He still had the bandage over the wound and incision, but the surrounding tissue was a myriad of rainbow colors.

He reached into his overnight bag and pulled out the supplies Dr. Jackson sent with him. He was told to change the bandage twice a day while it was still seeping. Then daily once the scab formed and it dried out. He picked at the corner of the tape until he could grasp it. Unlike what most people suggest, he wasn't about to rip it off at high speed. He slowly peeled off the bandage ever so thankful he didn't have a hairy chest. He leaned closer to the mirror fingering the incision and hole which were two inches away from each other. He was both fascinated and repulsed at the same time. Grabbing a fresh sterile bandage and the roll of tape, he quickly covered the wound back up. Not wanting to see it anymore he put on a white T. Although Florida was still fairly warm this time of year, he decided to keep at least the undershirt on at all times. Aside from not wanting to scare any of the other people here, he didn't need a reminder of what just happened to him. In fact he was entering the anger phase of the emotional rollercoaster that comes with being shot. He was infuriated that he let it happen, he was mad that someone did it to him, and he was irate that no one seemed to care. All those lives he saved, and most of the city still is afraid of him or hating him. In fact that asshole publisher JJ Jamison was still bashing him even after he rescued his then 'future daughter-in-law'. That thought of MJ just darkened his mood even more.

'Maybe I should just retire down here. Not too many places to swing from' he thought gloomily.

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At 7:10, the 23 guests were sitting scattered among the four tables in the main dining room. Belle was bringing out the food to serve family style when she gave Judge 'the look'. All those years of marriage had fined tuned their communications skills which seemed to only occur with long years together. Without a word uttered, Judge knew what she wanted and went upstairs. He stood outside Peter's door and leaned close to listen. He heard nothing. Rapping lightly with his knuckle he still didn't hear anything. Stealthily he opened the door and peeked in. Peter was sound asleep. Sliding his head back out and just as quietly closing the door, Judge went back downstairs. The silent communiqué from Judge told her everything she needed to know. She told her guests to "Dig in." Judge knew that she would put something aside for the young man in case he came down later, hungry.

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Pete slept fitfully, dreaming of goblins, multi-armed creatures and spiders. At one point MJ filled his sleep, but she turned into an apparition that vanished into mist. He awoke sometime around 1 AM, soaked to the skin, but he thankfully realized he didn't bolt upright in bed. He'd lain awake for a while, then got up and walked around the room. He didn't want leave his confines for fear of waking others. He finally decided to work on the paper that Connors had assigned to him. He concentrated for only about 10 minutes when sleep started to overtake him again. This time he finished the night dreamless.

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"Well Pete, you look like you had a good night's rest. How are you feeling?" Belle asked.

"Pretty good, actually. Thanks."

He looked up at the time and realized that he had slept through breakfast. It was 10 AM. He blushed and was going to act like he wasn't famished because he didn't want to put Belle out. But she knew better, "Pete, what can I get you to eat? You must be ravenous. You haven't eaten since you got here."

"Oh that's ok Mrs. Knapp, you don't have to go…"

"Nonsense!" Belle interrupted. "And please call me Belle, and my husband, Judge. Listen, Peter, you needed sleep more than you needed food last night. Your body is trying to heal. Now, you need nourishment. I have waffle batter already made, do you like them? We bring in our maple syrup all the way from Vermont."

Peter nodded, the saliva in his mouth already forming.

Later that morning, as Peter passed through the hallway out to the pool he overheard Belle on the phone. "Yes, he looks much better today. Sending him down here was the best thing you could have done for him. He'll be as good as new when we send him back up."

There was a pause, "Hurricane? No, it's supposed to hit Louisiana, not here. Don't worry, we won't let anything happen to your precious charge. One of these days you are going to tell us, aren't you?"

Another pause, "Love ya, tell everyone we all say hello."

Peter smiled a little. Maybe he was wrong, maybe some people really do care. It felt good to have someone fret over him, someone who worried just because he was Spiderman.

Out by the pool Peter took advantage of the offer to use Judge's laptop and worked on his paper. Even though he was trying to concentrate on the assignment he felt like he was being watched. He was definitely very insecure about his appearance even taking off his sling while he sat and worked. He wondered if others could see the deep bruising and a bandage beneath the thin undershirt. Periodically he would look up because he thought people were staring at him, but he was mistaken. Most of the adults were too busy watching their youngsters splashing around in the pool. He shook his head, he has got to stop being so self conscious. Down here in Florida, he was plain old Peter Parker, nerd, book worm.

The water was inviting, and it was hot out, especially with the shirt on, but he didn't think it would be a good idea to get his wounds wet. Besides, since he couldn't take the bandage off yet, the idea of having a soaking wet diaper-absorbing thing on his chest was nauseating. So he just sat in the sun and continued his research.

A shadow crept over his paper and he looked up. "Hi, my name's Deanna," the shadow said.

"Um, hi," was all that Pete said. He sat there with his mouth open. Before him stood someone of the same age as he, but definitely of the fairer sex. A lithe figure, complete with a tan and French bikini, held his attention before he looked up towards the face. Whereas her shadow covered his paper, it did not reach his eyes and he looked straight up into the sun. She must have realized he couldn't see with the sun behind her, so she moved ever so slightly allowing her shadow to fall across his face. What he saw took his breath away. She was an adorable brunette, her hair cut in a fun loving short crop. She had a small ski-jump nose and large dark brown eyes.

"Usually when someone introduces themselves, the courtesy is returned," she said a little miffed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm Peter Parker. Please have a seat," he said as he waved to the open chaise beside him.

"Watcha studying?"

"Nanophysics," he replied.

"Huh?"

"It's the study of the nanotechnology of physics. You know, subatoms and microns and stuff," he explained with a hint of sarcasm. He thought, 'sometimes it's hard being so smart.'

"Oh. Are you one of those nerdy types?" she asked innocently.

He sighed deeply. 'She should be blond' he thought, 'but still she was pretty to look at. Maybe she can help take my mind off of MJ.'

"Kinda," he answered.

"It's so hot out here, why don't you take your shirt off?" she asked noticing the sheen of sweat around his face.

"Uh, um…..I would rather not," he said blushing slightly.

"Well then, how about a dip in the water? It's ok to get your shirt wet isn't it?"

"I really shouldn't get wet right now. I'm recovering from surgery," he said, when he failed to think of a more viable excuse.

"Surgery? What for?"

"I, um, fell."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Gee, you don't talk much. Look around, we are the only two people of our generation here. I was kinda hoping we could chat and get to know each other. It'll be better than talking to the old foggie sisters over there," she said nodding in the direction of the three very elderly women. "Or chatting with little kids," and she nodded in the direction of three families with a plethora of kids splashing in the pool.

He looked at his fellow vacationers and realized she was right. "You've got a point there. I'm sorry. I've been a little down since my accident. Would you like to take a walk?" he offered.

"Sure."

Peter and Deanna found the path to the Gulf and walked it slowly. The chatter was mindless, shallow chit chat. She spoke of her favorite rock group, Velvet Revolver, and the diet that she was perpetually on even though Peter couldn't see why she was dieting. She had a gorgeous figure. At one point she looked up and asked what the large 'nuts' were near the top of the palm trees. He answered, "coconuts."

"I thought they were small, round and brown? Those things are huge."

"What you are thinking of you see in the grocery store, right? Those up there are the same things, but there is a 2 inch thick fibrous covering around the hard shell. It's a wonder anybody ever figured out you could eat them." Peter said nonchalantly.

"I have never had real coconut, just the flaky stuff from a jar," she confessed.

Peter hesitated, "You know, I don't think I have ever had fresh coconut either. But I don't think they are ripe yet. I don't see any that have fallen to the ground."

When they reached the beach they noticed the water was a dark grey and very rough. For the Gulf that was highly unusually as it is normally quieter than the ocean. There was no one else around. The shoreline was deserted.

"C'mon Peter, let's go swimming!" she called and ran into the water.

"I can't Deanna. I'm not supposed to go swimming with my injury," he called back. But she didn't hear him, she was already too far out.

He watched her nervously as she was being carried quickly away by the current. She didn't realize it, being from Kansas. They don't have an ocean there. He came from NY and was just a hop away from Jones Beach. He knew more about riptides and undertows than she did. "Deanna, you're getting too far out," he yelled.

When she heard Peter, she apparently agreed with him and started to head back for shore, but with each stroke, she found herself getting pulled further out. "Peter, I can't get in!" she cried and doubled her swimming efforts.

"Dammit," he thought. He looked around and saw a lifeguard stand every 200 feet. They were all deserted because the larger beaches usually got the few remaining lifeguards at this time of year. There wasn't another soul around just lifesaver-rings hanging on poles every 50 feet. And Peter was definitely not strong enough to swim in this kind of water alone, never mind trying to rescue someone.


	9. What's a little storm among friends

Peter entered the water up to his knees. He knew he couldn't swim out and bring her back to shore in his condition. He periodically lost sight of her as waves swelled in front of him blocking his view. Looking around at the deserted beach he realized that if she was going to be saved, it was going to be him.

"Dammit" he shouted, took aim and shot a web out to the floundering victim. But in that instance a wave rolled up and intercepted it. The churning whitecap captured and rendered the gossamer line useless. Frustrated Peter was about to try again when his mind snapped back to something he saw on the beach. Turning around he saw the lifesaver and rope hanging on a post not 25 feet away. Judging the distance between it and the girl, he snagged the ring with webbing and with a sharp snap of his wrist, whipped it out to Deanna. He watched her grab for the float. When she had a good hold on it he began to pull. He needed to use both arms to pull her in and his chest and shoulder were aching dearly under the strain. He wished now that he had left his arm in the sling all day as it was already sore before this rescue. As she reached the shallows, she let go of the ring and splashed towards Peter. She was shaken and tired, but otherwise ok.

Grabbing him into a big bear hug she cried, "Oh Peter, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Then planted a big, wet kiss smack on his lips and pulled him back into a hug. Peter ignored the pain she caused his injury as she cried, asking, "How did you do that?"

"Uh, um…." Remembering that she wasn't the sharpest knife in the kitchen when it came to physics he decided to throw some double talk at her and hope she was as dumb as she played out to be.

"Well using the line as a fulcrum, I was able to take advantage of the increased mass of the life saver to amplify the centrifugal force. I let go at the proper tangent to the arc which gave it a greater distance of polarity, thus reaching you," he said sheepishly knowing it was pure nonsense.

"Huh? Could you translate that for me?"

'Oh great' he thought to himself.

"It just means I used the laws of physics to get the greatest distance out of the throw."

He waited to see if that was sufficient.

"Oh. That makes sense, you studying physics and all. Any way you look at it, I am so happy that you were here to save me."

They started back for the house and he sighed with relief that she hadn't take a closer look at the life buoy……..the webbing was still attached to it.

Halfway back, Peter noticed high in one of the trees a coconut that was mostly brown. It would probably fall on it's own in a few days. He looked over at Deanna who was still a little shaky and had non-stop nervous chatter. She really wasn't paying attention to him. So when they had passed the tree by several feet, he slipped his good arm behind his back, took aim and shot a web ball at the coconut. His heart stopped for a fraction of a second at the sound of the thwip which was a lot louder in the quiet of the country. But luckily the shot was good and the coconut came crashing to the ground. Pete turned around as if he heard nothing but the coconut falling and said, "Hey, I think we have a souvenir for you."

He pushed her in that direction and there on the ground was the coconut. Peter picked it up and handed it to Deanna, "Here ya go."

"Wow, this is great," she said starting to get over her recent trauma. She studied it and began to pick at the husk. "So you say that there is about two inches of this stuff before I get to the hard shell of the coconut?"

Pete just nodded.

She studied and plucked at the fibers of her prize the rest of the walk back.

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That night at dinner Peter sat next to Deanna. He felt very self conscious as her mother and father kept eyeing him and asking about his background. They were quite impressed with his rescue efforts, especially noticing his arm in a sling which he put back on immediately upon returning to his room. Deanna had nothing but praise. But being parents they wanted to know more about the boy their daughter was falling for.

Peter felt a little uncomfortable. He had never gone through a parental grilling before. MJ's father didn't give a damn about his daughter and probably won't recognize Peter as being the boy next door if he wore a neon sign stating so. Peter could do all he could just to keep up with the volley between Deanna's mother and father.

"So I hear you are still in school." She said.

He nodded yes.

"Do you have a job?" the father asked.

He nodded yes.

"Is it a steady job?" She asked

He was still nodding yes.

"Who are your parents?" He asked

"Well I live with….." Pete started to say.

"What are you studying?" She asked

"Phys…"

"What are your plans when you graduate?" He asked

Peter just kept looking back and forth at the two parents as if it were a tennis match. He was starting to get light headed. He was thankful when Belle announced to everybody, "Dig in!"

Once people started eating, the barrage of questions slowed to a trickle. They were all busy with full mouths and compliments for the chef. Deanna leaned over and whispered in Pete's ear, "Wanna take a walk after dinner? This time I promise not to go swimming."

He just nodded yes.

After dinner, even though it was already dark, the Knapps had the forethought to install solar lights along the pathway. This way guests could go down to the beach in the evenings during winter months. Tonight there were no stars or moon, clouds hid them from view. A rainless wind blew steadily in from the southwest.

The tide was high, eating half of the long beach. Although sight was limited to shadows, they listened to the roar of the waves crashing on the shore. It was a soothing sound even though ferocious. They chose a spot out range of the high tide line and sat in the sand. For a while they were quiet just listening to the waves and letting their eyes adjust to the darkness.

Deanna was the first to speak, "My parents are getting worried about storm and want to leave. I don't want to go. Actually I want to see a hurricane."

"Well according to Belle it's supposed to just miss us. We would get only a little wind and rain. We have that all the time in New York. Just remnants of hurricanes. It's nothing."

There was more silence.

Deanna looked over at Peter and saw his head start to droop forward. "You ok?"

His head snapped up and he turned to her, "Yeah, just tired I guess. I did a lot today. My doctor would be pissed that I didn't sit in a chaise lounge all day."

"Does your shoulder still hurt?"

"A little."

"C'mon, it's late. I don't want your doctor to get mad at me for keeping you up." She said smiling.

And they headed back to the house.

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"Warning, what warning?" Peter asked Belle the next morning after he heard her talking to some guests.

"The hurricane that was originally heading towards Louisiana has shifted course and is heading for the Panhandle. But it is still only going to brush us. I don't think we need to worry, however I wasn't going to stop anyone who wanted to leave."

He looked towards the center hall and saw several packed bags sitting by the front door. "Who's leaving?" he asked.

"Oh we're losing about half of the guests. But some were supposed to vacate today anyway. The room next to yours is leaving, the two larger families with all the kids are going as well. Josh and his parents are remaining along with the Bruhn sisters and your friend and her family.

She looked at Peter, "Do you want to leave?"

"Oh no, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You don't have to stay if you don't want to. We can get you back to NY easily right now."

"No really. I don't mind staying. It doesn't sound that bad. Actually, it sounds interesting."

Belle smiled. She liked this young man. Wasn't sure why, but she did. "If it was supposed to hit us full force then I would definitely close up the place, but we'll just get some high winds and maybe a splattering of rain."

After breakfast as Belle and Judge started to clear the table, Peter brought his plate into the kitchen. "Can I help with anything?" he asked since he wasn't paying a cent for the accommodations.

Belle took one look at the young man, arm in a sling, and pale. 'At least he was standing up straight,' she thought.

"Absolutely NOT!" she stated firmly. "You're a special guest. You are here for one reason and one reason only. To heal. And its rest, not dishes that helps with that." With that she shooshed him out with her hands.

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Peter walked down to the Gulf again, alone this time. It wasn't long before he regretted leaving his sling in his room as his heavy muscular arm was pulling on the injury. But he just felt too self conscious with it on. As he stood barefoot in the sand, hands in his pockets, the wind buffeted him with salt water spray plastering his hair to his head. But he didn't care. The thick stormy sky mimicked his mood. He closed his eyes to the pelting drops and thought about Mary Jane. The events of the week turned things around so quickly, one minute he was in bliss, then the next, due to a madman's bullet, his world had fallen apart. The love of his life had left, he was seriously hurt and chased out of the city.

And to top it all off, he was also beginning to doubt himself. Last year he was questioning being Spiderman because he wanted, no make that needed, a life of his own. But he finally reconciled himself to the fact that he was Spiderman and he couldn't run away from it. But now this was even worse. He hadn't told this to MJ but he had also thought he was invincible. The things his body went through would have been fatal to any normal human, but he always came out of it just a little banged up but basically okay. He never, even remotely came close to death before. Now that he has, it has brought about a whole new emotion. Fear.

He tried to stare at the turbulence in front of him squinting against the salt spray as it stung his face. The water was the same dull angry gray as the sky and he couldn't tell where the one started and the other ended. Straining to stand upright against the wind, he was wondering just what 'brushed' meant to a seasoned Floridian, because this sure did look like it was going to get nasty. Soaking wet and chilled to the bone, he decided to head back.

He walked into an impromptu meeting in the living room to hear Judge saying, "Hurricane Fiona has turned yet again and is now heading straight for us. But I do want to ensure you that this house is close to 200 years old and has taken on a lot of storms over the years. But if you want to leave, we won't hold you back."

Peter looked at the stalwart adventurers who were remaining to face the storm. The 10 year old boy named Josh with his family, and three elderly sisters who according to them have survived the biggest storms ever to grace Florida's coast. Mabel, Irene and Viola all looked like they had actually weathered the hurricanes standing outside. Although their faces were weathered, they were tall, robust 80 year old Germans.

"Peter," Judge said. "I'm sorry, but all flights have been cancelled. We can move you inland, but we can't get you back to NY right now."

"Hey, don't worry, Judge, I'm fine. I'll stick this out. Could be exciting." Peter said with a hint of enthusiasm. He needed some sort of adrenaline rush if he couldn't get it from webswinging.

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"Hey Darryl, have you heard the weather forecast lately?" Billy Bob asked.

"Can't say that I have. So?"

"Hurricane's comin' this way?" Billy Bob said, a smile cracking his face.

"I thought it was just going to miss us. Ain't enough people gonna evacuate for us to get away with anything." Darryl retorted.

"Uh-uh. According to NOA, it just turned east some more. We're gonna get it full force." And the small crack broke into a huge smile.


	10. Fiona

Darryl and Billy Bob glanced at each other with a gleam in their eyes. They were one of the few people other than storm chasers who actually looked forward to major storms. In fact in their own way, they could be called storm chasers themselves. If a large hurricane was scheduled to make landfall anywhere in Florida and even into Alabama, these two could be seen traveling against the flow of traffic heading into the area being evacuated.

Although a dangerous way to make a living, these two took advantage of the migration to loot stores. The storm's fury made great cover for their getaway.

"Hey, what about hitting the Western Union over on Poleka?" Billy Bob asked.

"Dunno. Won't the money be locked in a safe, like a bank?" Darryl responded.

"Ok then, what about the jewelry story at 5th and Mason?"

"Hey, yeah, good idea. I'd been promising my girl a fancy navel ring. When do you want to hit it?"

Billy Bob was staring out the window of their rented room. Let's give it a couple more hours. I want to be sure everybody's gone. Big Bubba can handle the floodwaters," he said referring to his ultrahigh, extra-heavy duty monster truck.

The thieves grabbed a couple of beers and sat down to watch the Giants/Eagles football game being played in New York since all the local games were cancelled.

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After changing into dry clothes Peter came downstairs and found Judge. Showing mild anxiety, he asked, "How're feeling Peter? Think you can lend me a hand?"

"Would one hand be acceptable?" he said jokingly, waving the fingers of his left arm now back in a sling.

"Anything would be of help. A hurricane warning has been issued and it looks like Fiona is a cat 4 now."

"What does that mean?" Peter asked.

"Cat 4 means category 4. Five's the worst, but four's got winds up to 150 MPH. It means we are in for a rough ride and it's too late to evacuate now. Think you can close shutters for me?"

Pete nodded.

"Great, start on the top floor and work your way down. If you have any problem ones, leave them and I'll get them later."

Just before he headed up the stairs Peter asked, "Have you seen Deanna?"

"Oh, uh, yes. I forgot to tell you. She told me to tell you goodbye and she gave me this," and Judge handed Peter a piece of paper with her home information on it. "Her parents decided to do a last minute bailout and she didn't have a chance to tell you. I told them I thought it was way too risky as the storm is already upon us."

Peter looked at the paper and seemed disappointed that she wasn't still there. "Thanks" was all he said and he headed upstairs to the top floor. Starting in the far room, Pete opened each window, got blasted with needle point rain, then reached around and grabbed a shutter. As he closed and latched each one, he moved onto the next. With each window he opened he was sprayed with a fine mist and high winds. 'I should have stayed in my wet clothes,' he thought as the fresh dry clothes were now clinging to him. Even with his injury, he still was very strong and was able to get all the shutters closed and latched on the top two floors.

He finished with all of the windows and headed back downstairs to the main room. The few remaining guests were filtering in and Belle would periodically give someone a chore to do. Although feisty for their ages, the three sisters were left jobless. But Belle grabbed the youth as soon as she saw him. "Pete, how are you holding up?"

Although tired and needing rest, he lied, "I'm fine, what else can I do for you?"

She gave him a close scrutiny, not really pleased with his coloring, but decided that they really do need to get a few things finished before the storm really hit hard. "Downstairs I have storm candles. They are tall glass cylinders each with a candle inside. Some are boxed, other's loose. Can you bring them up? I'm thinking six per room down here and two per guest. They could carry one, and leave the other in their room. That's close to 50 candles." Looking at the wet young man who was starting to slump a bit, she added, "That's an awful lot of work for you."

She now hesitated, sorry she just asked him to do such a big chore. He would only be able to carry one box, maybe two up at one time. That was a minimum of six trips up and down the cellar stairs. But she saw that he wanted to help out. So she came up with a suggestion. "Josh is a nice young boy, he can carry a lot of candles too. It will cut your trips in half."

"Sure thing, Belle. We'll have that done in no time. Where you do want us to put them?"

"Just put the candles on the table here. We'll light them then put them around the house when we lose the electricity." She said.

"You say that as if we are definitely going to lose power."

"We will Peter. We definitely will. It is a question of when not if. So I would like as many candles up here as possible before we lose the lights. I don't want you two doing those stairs in the dark."

Peter called over to the youngster, "Hey Josh wanna give me a hand?"

The 10 yr old was more than happy to help. "Yeah, what do you want me to do?"

Peter hesitated, thinking that there has to be something to carry more than what they could hold in their hands at one time. His eyes rested on a log carrier over by the fireplace. "Josh, go get that leather thing over there."

Down in the basement, the two young males found the store of candles and decided to load up the log sling with as many as they could. Six boxes fit safely in it without a chance of spilling out. "Josh, can you carry two more boxes?"

"Yeah, Peter, but you can't carry that by yourself."

Using his super strength, he picked up the log carrier with his good arm and proceeded to head upstairs with the 10 yr old right behind him. "This isn't that heavy, Josh….I just have to make sure not to use my bad arm."

"Why don't you take the candles out of the boxes while I go back for more. One more trip oughta do the trick," Peter told Josh.

Just as Peter returned with another load of 5 boxes, bringing the total number of candles to 52, more than enough, the lights went out. Although it was dark in the house, it was still daytime and there was enough daylight to see. Peter looked for matches. Searching around the mantel first then in a small desk beside the fireplace, he found what he was looking for. As he started to light the candles he told Josh where to place some of them. He wasn't going to light them all just yet, he wanted to save some of them for the night.

"Oh Peter, wonderful. How did you manage to do that so quickly?" Belle exclaimed.

"Peter is super strong!" Josh said admiringly.

"Well actually, Josh was a big help. I couldn't have done it without him." Pete quickly stated.

The three sisters were the first to enter the main room, "My, isn't this cozy," Mabel said to Irene.

"Reminds me of Hurricane Candice back in '55," Viola said to Mabel. And with that, the three started to argue what year Candice actually hit.

Since it was mid afternoon, they had a lot of time to kill. Even though there is something exhilarating about a hurricane, the 10 yr old looked like he was just getting a little frightened at the gale blowing outside. Sometime when they were in the basement, the rain had started, and they could hear it pelting the shutters. Pete looked up just as Judge came through the front door in a yellow slicker. He took off his hat and shook it, then shed his coat.

"Man, I just finished with these downstairs shutters when the rain kicked in. Looks like it's gonna be a doozy."

"Oh Honey, you're dripping all over the floor!" Belle yelled and quickly escorted her husband out back.

BANG.

Everyone jumped at the crack of something hitting the wall outside the dining room. Judge, who obviously heard the sound from the back, came running in and headed towards the window, where there was now a constant hammering.

"Dang. The shutter broke," he cursed loudly.

Belle who followed her husband in, complained, "Terrific, are we going to have to listen to that commotion the rest of the storm?"

"I'll go get the hammer and some nails and see if I can't at least nail it still," Judge said and he disappeared downstairs.

Peter noticed that Josh seemed a little upset with the howling winds and slamming of the shutters. "So Josh, where're you from?"

"Maine."

"Oh, so you've never been through a hurricane before, then have you? Well to tell you the truth, neither have I."

"Where are you from, Peter?" Josh asked obviously enjoying the attention the young man was giving him.

"I'm from New York."

"New York City?" Josh asked as his eyes widened. "Have you seen Spiderman?"

Peter rolled his eyes and thought, 'oh great, I can't even escape Spiderman way down here in Florida.'

But Josh's mom broke in, "Sweetie, Spiderman is just a myth. A story some drunk probably made up."

Peter really wanted to take sides with the mother, but he needed something to occupy the kid during the tempest. So as he thought about going into tales of the superhero, the house rumbled and shook with an extraordinary blast of wind. The decision was cemented.

"Well actually," Peter said talking to the parents, "Spiderman is real. I'm sorta his unofficial photographer." Then to the boy he decided to embellish on the well known lie, "In fact, that's how I hurt myself. I was trying to get another shot of him when I fell onto a two by four."

Josh's mom admonished, "I would prefer if you would not fill his head with make believe, Peter."

"I'm not." Peter defended. "Spiderman is real. I've spoken to him. He's flesh and blood."

The kid's eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Is it true that he flies?"

"Well, in a way. He swings from a web like a spider."

Do bullets bounce off him?"

Peter gagged at that, still feeling the pain of the bullet ripping into him. "No, that's Superman. Spiderman is human with, uh, extraordinary talents."

He looked around and found that he held everyone in rapture. Even the sisters were quiet. He turned towards Belle when she spoke, "Peter, would you hold the storytelling for a minute? I want to bring some snacks and drinks out for everyone."

He nodded 'yes'.

Belle was back out quickly enough. She had a cheese and crackers platter beautifully accented with fruit. Judge, who had just finished nailing the shutter, went into the kitchen as well. He came out with several bottles of Martinelli's non-alcoholic sparkling cider. Belle looked towards Peter and gave him her 'ok to continue' look.

He started with the World Unity Day where both Spiderman and Green Goblin made their big entrances. Although Spidey had been helping others before, this was the event that really brought him to the forefront and introduced the supervillain.

Josh's father was the first to speak in a long time, "You've got to be kidding about the Goblin guy, right?"

Peter's face suddenly took on a mournful look as he just shook his head. "I wish I was. But he was real."

He quickly went on describing fire rescues, saves in collapsed buildings and many of the heroic feats that Spiderman had performed over the years. When he started talking about Doc Ock, the eyes widened even more especially when it came to the train save. He chose to leave out the unmasking part, however. He was afraid it might have led to more questions that he might have had trouble answering. He didn't bring any of the Mary Jane rescues into his story telling. He didn't want his face or voice to give away his true feelings for her.

Suddenly Peter stopped talking as his spider sense started screaming at him.

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Billy Bob turned from looking out the window, "Let's do it."


	11. Boogie Woogie

Billy Bob drove slowly through the harsh gale, windshield wipers flipping at high speed. A piece of corrugated aluminum soared in front of the truck, missing them by inches. Billy Bob had all the confidence in the world that nothing would happen to them, but Darryl was looking a little white, making the inch long pink scar running across his chin even pinker. This was the worst storm he had ever tried to pull a job in. But the good news was that there was not another car around for miles. Not even cops. The driver was leaning forward, his ice blue eyes unblinking as he concentrated on the road. The wind-whipped rain was coming down so hard that visibility was limited to just a few feet. The water on the road was about a foot high already, but for this monster truck, it was but a puddle.

"There's the store," Billy said. "Hold on!" and he pointed the truck with the front end protective bar straight at the picture window. Darryl reflexively held up both arms to guard his face as the truck barreled through the storefront.

"There, now we won't even get wet as we pick up our goodies," Billy Bob said triumphantly.

"Man, you are nuts, ya know that?"

"Just get out and start grabbing the jewelry."

Most of the glass cases exploded on impact from the truck, so neither crook had to break anything. They scooped up pearls and 18 k gold rings, precious gemstone necklaces and diamond tennis bracelets. Darryl made a point of finding a navel ring just for his girlfriend. He held it up and yelled over, "Hey, BB, ya think Tiffany would like this?"

"Yeah, yeah, let's finish up and get outa here."

Once they were back in the truck, Billy Bob backed the truck out into 2 ½ feet of water. "Damn! It's rising faster than I thought. Let's get the hell out of here."

In that much flooding, even monster trucks lose some traction and Billy Bob was finding it hard to control the vehicle. In this part of Florida, there were no hills but there was just enough of a small incline that they were able to get to shallower waters. It took them an hour to get out of a town that usually took five minutes. And although there was debris flying all over and hidden under the water, the thick heavy duty tractor tires were able to handle it all. But it was when they got out onto the country roads that the trouble started.

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Peter's spider sense was in full alarm. He jumped up, grabbed Josh who was sitting on the floor next to him, and tackled Belle as she was coming over with more food. Cheese and grapes went flying through the air at the precise moment a huge tree limb crashed through the shuttered window behind him. Shards of glass and wood splinters spewed throughout the room and a heavy chunk of tree occupied the space where Peter, Josh and Belle had just been seconds earlier. He was unable to twist under his two charges to take the brunt of the landing and ended up half on top of Belle and half on Josh. Quickly rocking back off and sitting beside the two people he saved, he subconsciously grabbed at his chest as he asked them, "Are you two ok?"

"I'm fine Peter, just a little winded," Belle said as Judge was already by her side helping her up.

Josh was up in a flash. "Wow, Peter, how did you do that?"

Belle was the first to notice that Peter did not get up immediately and that he was clutching at his injury, "Oh my, you hurt yourself."

"No, no, I'm fine really. It was just a bit of a jolt. I'm more worried about you," he answered as he slowly got up.

Belle recalled the question that Josh had just asked and questioned, "I'm fine, but how **_did_** you do that?"

Peter stammered a bit then answered, "I heard the limb cracking. I wasn't sure if it was going to come through the window or not. There's nothing spectacular about it. It's nothing, really. In fact I would probably be in trouble with you right now if the branch didn't come through the window."

Judge ordered, "Pete, you sit. Mr. Agars," referring to Josh's dad, Josh Sr. "would you come and help me push that limb out and nail a board over the window?"

The gentleman nodded and followed after Judge while Belle excessively fussed over Peter.

Really feeling very self conscious about all the attention, Peter tried to assure Belle that he was fine even though his shoulder ached from both the pre-hurricane work he did and the rescue stunt he just pulled. In fact, he was almost sure he pulled apart some of the deeper stitches. Mabel, one of the sisters, noticed his discomfort at all the pampering and nudged, "So, do you have any pictures of this Spiderman with you?"

As he looked over at the old lady, he heard a thump at the front door. Luckily others heard it as well.

"What on earth could that be?" Belle exclaimed.

"Judge! Judge, get your butt up here now." She yelled out.

At that moment, Judge appeared carrying a large particle board, being assisted by Josh Sr. "What is it?"

"I think I heard something at the front…"

The thump came again but it didn't sound like an object being knocked by the wind. Judge went to the door and opened it. He was sent flying back into the arms of Mr. Agars and the two fell against the front stairs. In stormed three people shoved by the powerful winds. Judge, Mr. Agars and one of the rain slickered individuals grabbed the front door and with all their might, shut out the gale. The people in the living room all stared at the dripping apparitions until one of them swept the hood back off her head.

"Deanna!" Peter cried. "What, how, where?"

Her father spoke up, more to Judge than Peter. We couldn't get out. Every road ended in a roadblock, either trees, powerlines or water blocked the access. We didn't even make it to the Interstate. We had no choice but to turn back.

"Hey Pete," she said cheerfully, then looking at the glass and wood splattered room asked, "What happened here?"

He just nodded towards the window. Then Josh piped up, "Yeah, you shoulda seen him. He saved our lives! He was faster than lightning. Before I knew anything was happening, he grabbed me and Mrs. Knapp and tackled us to the floor just as that big tree came crashing through the window." Deanna could see the excitement in the boy's face.

"Gee, Peter, you're quite the hero, first me, and now Josh and Belle." She said fondly.

Belle heard Deanna's comment and deep in the recesses of her mind, she was subconsciously calculating the two rescues and the unknown but hinted reason why Peter was down here to begin with. It would enter the conscious level later.

Pete tried to hide the unease on his face. Now he was sorry that he spent so much time talking about Spiderman. Suppose they start to put things together? The two rescues, him hauling up a very heavy load of candles, and just the fact that Carl sent him down here and wanted him to be treated special. Hopefully no one knew about the Spiderman shooting in NY. That would definitely seal his fate.

Luck was with him, however, as Belle went over to the three drenched guests. "Here, let me take your coats. You must be soaked to the bone. I have jambalaya cooking on the stove. Dinner will be served shortly in the dinning room."

Ever the astute girl, Deanna looked about, "But how could you be cooking if the electricity is out?"

"Gas, my dear. We're cooking with gas."

The guests headed into the dinning room and were prepared to dine by candlelight. Judge and Belle served the New Orleans style dinner over a thick bed of rice. The room was quiet as everyone dug into the food. The only sound being the gale raging outside. Peter was quieter than usual. He was tired and achy. But more importantly, he was worried that he may have given away too much. His identity would be in serious jeopardy if anyone sees that news broadcast from New York anytime in the near future. Viola broke the silence and asked Deanna about her adventure out into the hurricane. Especially from a Kansas girl who has never been in a hurricane.

"Oh, but we have tornados. They're kinda like a condensed hurricane. Their winds are much worse, but they also come and go much faster. No one in their right minds would go out with a tornado on the ground."

Belle raised an eyebrow, looking at the young woman and remembering the stern warning she gave the family about leaving so late. But she held her tongue. "Why don't we have coffee and dessert in the living room?"

While Belle had been preparing dinner, Judge and Josh Sr. had nailed a board over the broken window and cleaned up the debris so the room was once again presentable.

They were digging into light French pastries, when Josh Jr. said, "Tell us more about Spiderman."

Cringing Pete shook his head, "Josh, I'm storied out. I'm sure someone else here has interesting things they would like to share with us."

But he wasn't going to be able to shake his superhero alter-ego tonight. He heard Deanna asked, "What's a Spiderman?"

Josh was all too willing to retell all the stories that Peter had told just hours ago.

"That's just fairy tales," Deanna said. "There's no such thing."

Mrs. Agars spoke up next. "But apparently he is, dear."

Josh butted in, "Yeah, Peter's his unofficial photographer, right Peter?"

Pete just sat there. He felt like crawling into a hole.

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Billy Bob's temper was short to begin with but now with every road seemingly blocked, his temper was flaring almost out of control. He made a turn down a small dirt road which had storm channels flowing across it. Several areas of the road were in the process of getting washed away. Even the monster truck had problems with the trenches being created by the gushing waters. It was at one of these junctures that the left front wheel suddenly took a nose dive and sent the right rear end up in the air. The truck bucked and stuck in this position. Billy Bob got out in the pouring rain and high winds and fought his way to the front of his truck. Darryl, still in the safety of the dry insides watched as his partner in crime started to pound the hood with clenched fists and then kick it.

Darryl reluctantly got out to see what was wrong.

"Fckin' truck! The axle broke." Screamed Billy Bob as he landed another hard kick to the fender.

"Hey, Billy, if we can't get the truck out, then let's at least look for some place to hole up."

Still fuming, he realized that Darryl was right. "C'mon, let's grab the loot and start walkin."

They leaned heavily to the right to keep from being knocked over by the force of the gale. Turning away from the buffeting winds and pelting rain, they both held onto the hoods of their raincoats. Crossing one of the flooded sections, the dirt road under Billy Bob's feet gave way and sent him splat into the raging water. It wasn't deep enough to wash him away, but he was now thoroughly soaked to the skin and covered with gritty mud. Darryl helped his buddy up and even through the thunderous roar of the storm, could hear every word in the long intense string of curses pouring from Billy's mouth.

With night chasing them down, and no flashlight, they were desperate to find any building at all to take shelter in. Otherwise, they wouldn't be able to even see a building once darkness fell. The visibility was so poor that they almost missed the house on their left.

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Viola noticed a small baby grand over in the corner, and realizing the young man's discomfort at continuing the storyline, asked Belle, "Is that playable?" nodding towards the piano.

"Yes, it might be slightly out of tune, but not too bad."

"Mabel, why don't you go over and tickle the ivories a little?" the sister urged.

Mabel looked at her sister and saw a slight nod towards Peter. She understood what her sibling meant. So she went over to the piano and sat down. She lifted the lid that protected the keys and studied them for a moment. Then in one fluid motion, she started a haunting rendition of "Somewhere My Love", which was the Theme from Dr. Zhivago.

"Oh for Pete's sake, Mabel, don't put us all to sleep!" cried out Irene.

Mabel looked back at her other sister, harrumphed, then started to pound out the 1940's big hit by the Andrew Sisters, "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy".

The two remaining sisters stood up and started to clap to the rocking rhythm, jiggling what their old bones could still wiggle. Judge and Belle started swing dancing, when Josh's parents joined in a jitterbug. Not to be outdone, Deanna's parents also started in. When Mabel seamlessly flowed into Johnny Be Good, Pete and Deanna looked at each other, smiled and got up to rock and bop to the music.

At some point, the energy level soaring, the elderly piano player stood up. She was bent over the piano striking the keys as hard as that wild, 50's rock star, Jerry Lee Louis could, her rear end swinging to the beat. Peter was waiting for the frail bones in her fingers to break, but she kept a-pounding out the rock and roll, her hands a blur. She quickly brushed a wayward strand of silver hair that had fallen in her face.

As Mabel flowed from one rocking tune flawlessly into the next Deanna noticed that young Josh was out of it. All of the adults were busy boogying away, but the 10 yr old had no partner. At the same time she also noticed that Peter, only a few days post-op, was starting to fade. "Hey, Pete, would you mind if I ask Josh to dance with me?"

Peter, all too happy to take a rest answered, "Not at all, I bet he'd like that."

He was surprised to see that the boy could dance the jitterbug with Deanna, but his attention was quickly drawn to a pounding at the front door.


	12. Look what the wind blew in

"What the?" Belle exclaimed. "Don't tell me there are other guests that have turned around and come back."

Judge motioned to Josh Sr. and Deanna's dad, Mike, to help him open then close the wind lashed door. "Ready?" he asked.

Judge turned the knob to open the door as the other two kept it from flying. The door tried hard to fly open, fighting the men with every fiber of its inner fury, but the humans won. Along with wind, rain and debris, two slicker-cloaked men barreled in. As soon as they were through, the door was jammed closed, once again kicking the raging tempest out of the house.

"Hi, fellas. What's got you guys out in a storm like this?" Judge asked.

"We decided a little too late to evacuate and our truck broke an axle down the road a-ways," one of the gentleman said. As he slid off his hood, an inch long scar could be seen running across his chin. "It's a good thing your place was here. I'm not sure what we would have done if it weren't".

"Here, why don't you give me your coats. You can come join us in the living room for some hot coffee." Judge offered. He took both of the men's coats and reached for the satchel that one of them had placed on the floor. The stranger snatched it up and glared at Judge with unblinking ice blue eyes. "I would rather keep this with me," he said a little coldly. Or maybe it just seemed cold to Judge because of his eye color.

"That's fine. Have a seat, my wife Belle will be back with a cup of coffee for both of you. By the way, I'm Judge."

"I'm Darryl and this here is Billy Bob."

Peter was sure he saw the man with ice for eyes communicate to the other his displeasure at having his name given. It was so slight however that no one else caught it.

The two bad guys took their seats in the large spacious room a distance away from the others. Peter's spidersense was ringing off the hook but he couldn't tell why. He wasn't sure if it was the two new additions to the group or if something was about to happen to the house, like another tree branch. All he could do was to wait and try to figure out why his personal alarm was blaring.

Young Josh called over to the newest visitors saying, "We were just talking about Spiderman and all the neat stuff he does."

Peter groaned as he dropped his head into his hand, shaking it. He tried to shrink smaller in his chair, realizing he really blundered by discussing the superhero. He heard one of the fellows say, "Yeah, right kid. He's just a myth. A comic book character."

Mary, Josh's mom, once again answered in defense of her son, "Well according to Peter over there, he is a real person. He even takes pictures of him."

The blue eyed man, who was called Billy Bob, looked over at Peter, "So you say this guy is real? Is it human? Does it have eight legs? Is it married to a Black Widow?" and with that last question burst out laughing at his own joke.

Peter wanted to web the guy's mouth shut, but just sat quietly. It was then that Viola asked the question again that she broached earlier, "Peter, do you have photos of him?"

Peter just shook his head, "Not with me, no. I usually sell them all to the Bugle."

To Peter's relief the one who introduced himself as Darryl broke the line of conversation, "Where's the john?"

"It's around the corner the first door on the right," Judge answered pointing the gentleman to the rest room.

As Darryl got up, Josh Jr. glimpsed something under his shirt that looked an awful lot like a gun. He tugged his father's shirt, "Dad, that guy's got a gun. I just saw it."

Being ever the optimist his dad replied, "Well, son, maybe he's a police officer, or he is carrying it for protection. I'm sure there's a good explanation for it."

That didn't sit well with the boy. He didn't like the looks of either of these men and he was suspicious of the way the other one, the one with the mean looking eyes, was holding onto his bag. It got his curiosity up and he wanted to know what was in there. He sat pensively for a while, trying to think of how he could take a peek inside. He could do it when that guy fell asleep, providing he didn't fall asleep himself. "Or what about creating a diversion," he thought. "But what kind of diversion?" His young vivid mind was running wild with all sorts of possibilities.

"I don't like it here," Darryl whispered to Billy Bob when he returned. "They're getting too close a look at our faces. S'pose, they suspect something and give the cops our first names and a description? You know the cops gonna find us then."

"And you would prefer?" Billy Bob said sarcastically. "Besides, we'll be long gone by the time they get a call out and the cops come."

Darryl realized BB was right. The hurricane was in full force now. They wouldn't last five minutes out there. But he was bothered by how calm his buddy was about this whole situation. His partner in crime was a hothead and a worrier. Which in turn is why he was now worried.

Peter's wound was pinching where it was sticking to the bandage, not to mention, it was time for his meds. He looked to his hostess and said, "If you'll excuse me for a moment," then he grabbed one of the candles and headed up the dark stairs. Alone in his room, the creaking of the house was eerily loud due to the gale outside. It was unnerving to hear, but Peter believed Judge when he said this house had withstood many hurricanes worse than this. This whole ordeal had his nerves on edge and he had the feeling the worst was yet to come.

He put the candle on the vanity in the blackened bathroom. It hardly dented the dark. But there was enough light for Peter to examine the wound. It had finally stopped oozing and the stitches were crusted over. He gently cleansed the area and dried it, but before he could replace the dressing, he heard someone in the room. He snapped around ready to fire his webbing. But he stopped short when he saw Josh there.

Josh did a startled step backwards not expecting the kind of reaction Peter just gave. He stammered, "uh, uh,….the door was open," as he pointed to the hallway door. "I'm sorry Pete, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh, um, I just wasn't expecting anyone, that's all."

"Gee, you really are hurt bad," the young boy said, wide eyed, as he saw Peter's injuries for the first time.

Subconsciously, Peter turned away from Josh. "Its feeling better, really," and he quickly put on a fresh piece of gauze. He slipped his undershirt back on, then a regular 'T'.

"Did that hurt when you did it?" the boy asked.

"It was numb at first, but then it really started to hurt a lot," came the truthful response.

"What about now?"

"It's getting better, but I still have to be careful. It hurts sometimes if I use my arm too much." After a moment's pause he then asked, "So why did you come up here anyway?"

"One of those new guys downstairs has a gun. I saw it. He has it hidden under his shirt."

"Did you tell your dad?"

"Yeah, but he just poo-poo'd it away. Said, the guy's probably a cop or something."

"Was the gun in a holster?"

Josh shook his head.

'That would explain the spidesense acting up' Peter thought. Then asking Josh, "Does anyone else know?"

"Uh-uh. But I want to see what the other guy's got hidden in his bag. I bet he robbed a bank and there's a million bucks in there."

Peter sat down on the edge of his bed, most of his features lightly silhouetted from the candle still in the bathroom. He motioned Josh to sit next to him. "You know, your dad's probably right, he could be a cop. Or maybe he does have money or valuables in there that belong to him. And he needs the gun to protect himself. Unfortunately, in times like this when a lot of good comes out, a lot of bad does too."

There was a long pause, then Peter continued, "However, I think it's good that you told me. I will keep a close eye on him to make sure he doesn't do anything. If he is a bad guy, maybe they will just ride out the storm here and be on their way and leave us alone. I just don't want them to hurt anyone."

Just then a knock came from the open hallway door. Peter looked up. There stood Deanna, a candle in her hand which threw bizarre shadows across her face. Josh started to giggle as he thought about all those horror movies, which always happen during a major storm, with the lights out and ghosts and ghouls floating about. The lights always came from below the actors allowing shadows to play across their face in bizarre shapes.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Nothin'" and Josh giggled harder. Peter just stared at him also missing the joke.

Looking back at the doorway Pete asked, "Anything wrong?"

"I was just wondering where you were," she said and she kept shifting her weight from one leg to the other as if she needed to say more.

She did finally speak, "And I didn't like the way that creep with the bag kept looking at me. I wish they would leave. Better yet, I wish they never came."

Josh, still too eager to tell breaking news, said, "And one of them's got…"

His sentence was stopped short when Peter slapped his hand over the boy's mouth.

"What does he have?" she asked.

"A vivid imagination." Peter replied.

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Back downstairs, the two goons were whispering between themselves. "I don't like this. Where did those three go? Suppose they got a cell phone and are calling the cops?" Darryl asked.

"Even if they can get through, the cops won't be able to get here until the storm breaks. We'll be gone by then."

"But they know who we are. They can ID us."

"Don't worry about that." Billy Bob said quietly. Darryl didn't like the sound of that.

Mary began to worry, "What's taking them so long upstairs? I think I will go up and check on them." As Mary got up to go, Billy Bob stood up and blocked her way. She took one look at him and didn't say a word, she just sat back down.

But Mike had something to say, "Hey, what do you think…" His question trailed off without completing as Billy Bob showed him his gun.

"Now, just sit quietly and no one will get hurt. As soon as the storm breaks, we're outa here." He said ominously.

"Now see here young man," Viola started to complain.

She stopped in her tracks as ice blue eyes glared back at her, "No you listen, you old bag. We don't wanna be here anymore than you want us. But the storm forced us to change plans. You and your old cronies just behave yourselves and maybe you'll get to live through another hurricane."

She melted back into the chair she rose from. Judge, standing beside the seat his wife was in, reached down and grasped her hand and held it tightly, as if it alone would protect her.

Peter, crouched at the top of the stairs, motioned to the other two to keep quiet. He heard everything.


	13. Where angles fear to tread

"Go get those three kids down here, now," commanded Billy Bob.

When Peter heard that, he shooshed the other two away from the stairs and back into his room. He quickly extinguished the candle in the bathroom leaving only the one that Deanna had brought up. Grabbing that one he headed back out the bedroom door just as Darryl came up. Peter acted startled. He allowed the already melted wax in the candle jar to splash the light out.

"Hey, man, you scared me. Now lookit whatcha done." Peter complained.

"Just shutup and get downstairs." Darryl replied.

Peter was about to complain some more when Darryl's candle reflected a blue glint off the barrel of his gun. Even though he had been prepared, the sight of the gun brought fresh fear deep into Peter's soul. Pain seared his chest almost as if he had just been shot all over again. He just stared at the gun, unmoving. His brain told him that he was fast enough to take the gun away, but his apprehensive emotions told him otherwise. He had often felt this as a geek facing up to bullies like Flash, but never as Spiderman. He froze.

"I said, 'get movin'" Darryl growled and Peter was shoved from behind by the other two.

As the threesome entered the living room, Belle was heard to be saying, "What do you want with us? We don't know anything about the two of you."

"Lady, as soon as the storm's over, we outa here. So just sit nice and quiet and everything will be fine." Billy Bob stated flatly.

Peter could hear the lie in his voice. These two had no intention of letting anyone live. But, just on the chance that maybe, just maybe they would leave them alone, Pete did not want to start something that would end up in a massacre. At the same time, he was trying to convince himself that waiting was the better option. Suppose he does start something and he can't handle it? What if he freezes and that gets someone killed?

"Gowon, sit!" Darryl said and he shoved Peter into a loveseat. Deanna quickly followed the young man and sat next to him. Josh ran to his father. Looking towards Belle, Darryl said, "Go get some fresh coffee. It's gonna be a long night."

Billy Bob glared at his partner, "Go with her you moron! She could come back here with a load of knives or somethin'." Then looking at the others he threatened, "If anyone moves in here, I'll shoot the owner." And he pointed the gun at Judge's head. Then looking at Peter, "So, you take pictures of this webhead, huh? Bet you wish he were here to save you now, dontcha?" His smile sent a chill up Peter's spine.

"So what would he do to me if he was here?"

Peter remained quiet.

"Answer me geek. What would that freak do to me?" he screamed.

Josh jumped up and yelled, "He would tie you up with webbing then punch your lights out!"

Turning slowly to face the kid, he snarled, "He would, would he? So what do you know about him? Are you his buddy too? Maybe you're his publicist?

Deanna jumped in, "Leave the boy alone!" at the same time Mary snagged her son by the shirttail and yanked him back down. She whispered harshly into his ear, "Shhhh. Just keep quiet Josh. Don't antagonize the guy."

"Hmmm, and what's your name, Pretty?" Billy Bob asked as he slowly and disgustingly licked his lips. Deanna turned white as a ghost and sat back down next to Peter.

"That geek ain't gonna give you what I can, Sweetie. Now, aren't ya gonna give me your name?" he asked, irritation edging his voice. He edged closer towards Deanna as Darryl returned with fresh coffee. "Good timing, Dar, I think I will have dessert with my coffee.

Keep an eye on everyone here while I show this little lady a good time."

While all the attention was on Billy Bob, Josh popped his open hand over one of the candle jars snuffing out the flame. Mabel saw that and blew out the fire closest to her. Judge picked up on the example of the two guests and was able to snuff out two more candles just as Mike got up to defend his daughter. Even without a blink, Billy Bob sucker punched the father and knocked him out cold.

Peter slapped his hand over the closest candle to him effectively extinguishing that flame. As he took aim at Billy Bob with his fist, the last two candles were snuffed out. The first sound heard was that of someone's fist connecting with a jaw. But there was no thud indicating that the recipient of the punch fell. There was a sudden commotion of motion as several of the guests tried to leave the pitch black room. There was a gunshot, but no sound afterwards indicating that it struck anyone or anything. But the next sound was confusing to all who heard it. It could only be described as a 'thwp' immediately followed by the clatter of a gun hitting the floor.

Belle recognized the rattle of the fireplace utensils and hoped it was one of the guests and not a gunman. She cringed when she heard the sound of a solid metal iron connecting with a wooden item. She figured it must have been the fireplace poker being swung around. And by the solid whump of the object connected, she was hoping it wasn't the antique oak mantel that was damaged.

'Ouch' she thought to herself as she recognized her 200 year old vase being smashed. But the good news was that each time she heard a material thing getting destroyed, it meant there was no human on the receiving end. She jumped at the sound of the second gunfire. But that went straight up as she heard the ceiling plaster break and fall back down. But the next sound caused her to gasp. There was a soft thud, immediately followed by someone crying out in pain. She was afraid to think of who that could be, but she had a feeling. There was another louder thud, but that only elicited a semi-conscious groan. What came next made her hold her breath.

"If I hear anyone move, any noise whatsoever, I'm gonna start shooting everywhere. Got that!" Yelled Billy Bob.

"Darryl, get some fcking light in here, now!"

"Don't shoot me, BB. I'm over here looking for a candle."

After what seemed like an agonizing forever, a newly lit candle illuminated the living room. With the help of that one flame, Darryl quickly lit seven more to brighten the room significantly.

Belle looked around from her hiding place behind one of the Queen Anne chairs. The three elder sisters were huddled against the far wall, holding onto each other for dear life. Deanna's dad was still out where he had fallen before the fracas. Thankfully her husband, Judge was right behind her. Josh Sr. was sitting on the floor holding his head, blood seeping through his fingers. Mary, seeing her husband hurt, quickly scrambled over to him, pulling out a wad of tissues to press over the bullet crease. Josh Jr. was sitting in front of the chair that Belle was behind. He was white as a ghost. Belle's eyes fell on a still figure on the floor. He had passed out holding his bad arm, and she believed the thud she heard was him getting hit on the left side with the poker iron. Deanna was leaning over him, whispering something. Then she looked up and over at Belle, "His shoulder's bleeding."

Coming out from her hiding place, Belle looked at Billy Bob, blood trickling down his face, "I don't suppose you'll let me take care of that young man?"

He hesitated a long time, then answered, "Go ahead. If anything happens, your fault, my fault, nobody's fault. You're gonna be the first to get it. Understood?"

Judge quickly came up behind Belle and held her. "Leave him. Let's just ride out the hurricane until they leave."

Belle flashed him a look, the storm clouds in her eyes flashing worse than the gale raging outside. He backed away quickly.

She went over to the prone young man and gently rolled him onto his back. "Hand me that candle, dear," she said to Deanna who was right beside her. "And would you go get his sling over there on the chair?" she pointed to where Peter had removed his sling just before the fight.

Unbuttoning his shirt, she exposed his shoulder and saw that it had indeed started to bleed. When she removed the bandage, she could see that it really wasn't too bad. Basically the newly formed scab was knocked off, causing the wound to bleed freely again. A little pressure and fresh gauze would take care of it. She stood up holding the candle. Looking at Darryl she commanded, "Please accompany me to the medicine chest in the powder room, young man, so that I may get some fresh medical supplies for him."

Darryl was so taken by her demeanor that he did indeed go with her.

By the time she returned, Peter was starting to come around. He looked at Belle but did not focus on her. He changed his view to the direction of the two goons, then back to her. This time focusing. "I'm sorry," was all he said to her.

"Judge, come help Peter up into the chair," Belle ordered. He and Deanna were able to get the whoosey man onto the sofa with little jarring. That was when the young woman put the sling back on him, cradling his left arm. He looked at her, "Thanks."

Billy Bob looked at Pete and said, "You been taking too many pictures of that spiderfreak. You think a dork like you coulda taken us out? Now like I told Madam over there," he said nodding at Belle.

Belle steamed at being called madam.

He continued, "Any more problems and she gets it first."

Pete nodded acknowledgement and kept quiet.

Deanna was sitting next to the young man, "Thank you, Peter" she said to him. "Hopefully they'll leave me alone now."

"They're not going to leave anyone alone. They have no intention of leaving any witnesses." Peter whispered.


	14. Eye of the storm

The silence was deafening as Billy Bob and Darryl sat with their guns trained on their hostages. BB's gun was aimed specifically at Belle. But she sat there stoically, staring them down. Peter sat on the sofa glowering at the gunman as he held his still throbbing shoulder.

Thinking back, he thought that he had the two thugs until he had to take the blow. Even though his night vision was far superior to normal humans, he sensed the fireplace poker coming at him more than saw it. But he also knew that just a foot away from him, Deanna was crouched beside a chair in direct line of the iron weapon. If he ducked, which he could have done easily, the full force of the strike would have taken the girl in the head, killing her. Without time to web it, he closed his eyes and braced for the blow. Brilliant white light was swallowed by the total darkness as Peter succumbed to the pain. He never felt the ground rise up to meet him. The next thing he remembered was looking up into the face of Belle.

Now here he was trying to clear his head and come up with a plan ASAP. These men were not going to let anyone live. Of this he was certain. He was at the point where he was no longer concerned about his secret identity. It was more of the innocent people, the men holding guns and his diminished capacity that held his worry.

When Billy caught him eyeing him, he said, "You hit pretty hard for a geek. You take karate lessons or something?"

"Or something."

"You wanna try for another piece of me, dontcha, kid?" Billy Bob taunted.

"Leave him alone, Billy, We don't want to give anyone else a reason to start trouble," his partner warned.

But he ignored Darryl. "I know what would set you off." And his eyes drifted to Deanna. A sinister smile cracking the corners of his mouth.

The color drained from the young girls face as Peter's eyes narrowed in anger. Her mom bit her lip as she held the hand of her still unconscious husband. Peter rose slowly in defiance, fighting back the vertigo that accompanied the pain and the terror that ate away at his confidence. He hissed, "Leave her alone."

"Or you'll do what, nerd? Hit me with your college book?" the gunman asked as he rose to meet the challenge.

Peter's right hand fisted and was pulled back preparing to attack when he heard the soft click of a gun hammer being cocked. Then he felt the cold barrel just behind his ear, "Don't kid, it's not worth it." His concentration had been so centered on Billy, he never felt Darryl come up beside him.

As the hothead started towards a now defenseless Peter, Darryl said, "Billy Bob, let it go, man. I don't want to take the chance. Let's just sit this out, we'll be on our way in a few hours."

The quick-tempered gunman turned to face his cool buddy and was about to start swinging at him when they heard the gale outside quickly fade to silence. Acting as if on cue, everyone turned and looked up thinking they could see the storm abate through the ceiling.

"Heh, heh. See kid, luck's on your side. Sounds like the storm's over, so we will just grab our things and skedaddle. C'mon Billy, let's get out while we can."

Darryl suddenly had a bad feeling when he looked over at his buddy. A strange look came over Billy's face, a sadistic, sinister look. Darryl at no point thought that they were going to off the hostages but here was his partner preparing to do just that. Darryl grabbed his companion by the sleeve, and pulled him into the main hallway "No, Billy, don't do it. Let's just go."

"They know what we look like, they can describe you down to scar on your chin. They know our names and we held them at gunpoint. That in itself will send us back to the joint. And I ain't never going back."

As Billy Bob turned towards the cowering crowd, aiming his gun, Darryl grabbed him once again. "No! I'm not gonna be wanted for murder. Stealin's one thing, but I ain't gonna go down for murder."

As Billy Bob turned to face his soon-to-be-ex-partner, Peter took advantage of the distraction. It was now or never. And for the lives of everyone here, he had to throw his fears aside. As he snuffed the two candles closest to him, he whispered to whoever could hear, "The candles. Blow them out." In an instant, half of the lights were once again extinguished and Peter started his move. The two gunmen turned to see what was happening and prepared to shoot anything and everything. As total dark enveloped the room, Billy Bob started firing.

Deanna, saw that all hell was about to break loose, and quickly dove for the young kid. They huddled on the floor near the chair that she used for protection during the previous altercation. Splinters started flying from the wood paneling as both gunmen opened fire. The elderly sisters remained huddled in the darkest corner. Deanna's mom and dad were lying flat on the floor where Mike had fallen from the first fight. Josh's mom was screaming for her son, as she didn't see Deanna tackle him and Josh Sr, was scrambling on his stomach towards the shooters, the darkness shielding him.

Peter, now slingless, took aim and sent a hard webball directly at Billy Bob's head. But Billy was in mid-motion reacting to the new turmoil, so it ended up only a glancing blow. Reeling from the strike, the gunman ended up shooting several holes in the ceiling. Darryl saw where the object was 'thrown' from and started to fire in Peter's direction. Pete dove forward, onto the floor and closer to the gunmen. He thwipped out a line and caught Darryl by the ankles. In one smooth motion, he backed up into a half kneeling position and pulled with all his might. Darryl's feet flew out from under him with such force that he did a header onto the hard tile floor and was knocked cold.

Seeing that his partner just went down, Billy started shooting in the direction where he suspected the greatest threat came from. That was towards Peter. But the young man wasn't about to get shot again. He webbed the gun from the thug's hand, then launched himself up and prepared to strike. Billy saw the punch coming and sidestepped out of the way at the same time throwing a sucker punch to Peter's shoulder. Parker fell to one knee, a groan escaping his lips, but he rebounded instantly and fired a splay of webbing over the entire face of Billy.

As he grabbed at the goop stuck to his face, Billy was knocked clear across the grand hallway by a powerful kick. He blacked out even before he reached the other side.

Peter stood there looking at the two men making sure they weren't going to get back up. Breathing heavily, trying to compose himself, he realized, due to the very poor lighting, and everyone in hiding from the gunfire, that he had a chance to save his identity. Peter quickly gathered up all his webbing and threw it into a darkened corner where it would hopefully disintegrate before anyone would notice. Then he prayed that his secret was still intact.. With the imminent danger passed, everyone started to rise out of their hiding places. Peter looked for anything to tie the two hoodlums up: an electrical cord from a broken lamp, string from a busted blind and cord that held curtains to the side. While he was busy wrapping Darryl's ankles, Josh Sr came up behind Peter and started to help tie the men up. Mike, who had just awoken, also joined in the rodeo type setting, trussing Billy Bob's hands and legs together behind his back.

The three men stood and looked at their handiwork then Peter turned around to face the rest of the people, "Is everyone ok? Did anyone get hurt?"

He heard several muffled, "I'm fine" or "I'm ok." No one said they were hurt. He took a deep exhausted breath, and let his gaze fall to the floor.

Mike was the first to speak, "Let's get the rest of the candles lit again. We have to put these guys where they can't get to us again."

Josh, Sr added, "I think we should keep them separated. Where they can't find each other. Maybe even blindfolded?"

Many of the others nodded their heads in agreement. Then a small voice from the back of the room was heard, "Thanks, Pete."

A chorus of thank yous followed young Josh's sentiments. No one saw Pete's crimson blush in the dim light.

Once again they all looked up as the gale started up outside. Judge was heard to say, "Looks like the eye just past over us. You thugs don't know how lucky you are. You would have been out in the worst of the storm." Talking to the rest of the people he said, "We are going to have several more hours of this stuff. We can't do anymore tonight, and we should get some sleep, but I think we should take turns keeping watch over these two goons."

"I'll take the first watch," Peter volunteered.

"No Peter, you're going to be the first one to bed." Judge ordered. Then turning to everyone else, "Anyone disagree?"

There was a loud, unanimous agreement that the hero of the night needed to get some rest. When Judge handed out all of the watches Peter started to protest because he was not scheduled at all for any of the shifts. Even the women were taking turns. But Judge turned to Peter and said, "None of us would be here right now if you didn't risk your life and take these two out. Besides, I'm gonna have a helluva time explaining to my brother-in-law what we've done to you. You've done your fair share with this situation. You are to rest now. That's an order."

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Pete woke up to a very bright day. Even with the shutters still on the windows, the sunlight streamed in. He bolted out of bed not knowing the time or where the gunmen were and flew down the stairs. There in the living room were two state troopers taking notes from several of the guests. The gunmen were handcuffed and a third officer was escorting them to the patrol car.

"What's happening?" he inquired.

"Deanna got a call out on her cell phone very early this morning, and the police came right out." Judge explained. "Seems these guys are wanted for several armed robberies."

Peter watched the two thugs being escorted out. Just as Billy Bob was shoved out the door, he sent dagger-eyes back to Peter. But Pete's attention was diverted to the living room as he heard, "…and here is the hero of the day. If it weren't for him, we probably won't be alive right now."

One of the troopers came over, "So you knocked both these men out all by yourself?" He asked skeptically as he saw a nerdy young man with his arm in a sling.

Peter just nodded.

"And just how did you do that?"

"I threw something at the head of the first guy, then tackled the second."

"That's all? You threw something at the first guy and tackled the second? Would you like to elaborate a bit, fill in a few details?"

"It all happened so fast, I really don't recall any more detail."

Judge saw that the kid didn't want to discuss it any further and spoke up, "Officer, you have the bad guys in custody. All of us here said they were going to kill us, and witnessed this young man taking them out. Do you really need any more information?"

The officer looked at Judge, shook his head and left.

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Belle was saying goodbye to Josh's family as they were preparing to leave. All the guests had to leave since law prohibits customers from staying in an establishment if power is out without backup. And the B&B fit into that category.

Pete was saying goodbye to Deanna, "I have to admit, we had an interesting time."

"I'll say. Are all the dates you take girls on this exciting?"

Blushing, Pete said, "I wish."

"Well Peter Parker, I do want to thank you again for saving my life. Three times!" and with that she pulled him into a tonsil sucking kiss.

When she finally broke the connection, Peter swooned ever so slightly, glowing bright red and said sheepishly, "wow."

"Just in case you lost my first note," and she handed him another piece of paper with her name, address, cell phone, IM addy, and three other email addys. "Keep in touch, won't you?"

He just nodded, still caught up in the oxygen depriving smooch.

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The three remaining people of the B&B were sitting at the dining room table eating another dinner by candlelight. The conversation was fairly quiet, when Pete spoke up.

"Are you sure I don't have to leave Belle?"

"I'm sure. You are considered a personal guest, not a paying customer. It's no different than having family over. Besides, Carl sent you down here to heal and you haven't completed that part of the deal yet. You are staying for at least another week aren't you?"

He nodded

After a pause, she added, "You probably would have been better off staying up in New York."

"Hey, I'm fine really. With the hurricane gone and the goons in jail, I should heal up pretty fast. Besides, it was kinda fun. I mean there is quite an adrenaline rush when something like this happens." Realizing he just said it was fun to have two dangerous men threaten their lives Peter said quietly, "I think I'll shut up now."

"Nonsense. You're right, there was something exhilarating about the whole ordeal."

She continued, "You know, I'm really glad you did come down. Because we would all be dead now if you hadn't. Those men would have shown up whether you were here or not."

"I'm glad I could help," Peter said, blushing once again. He just wasn't used to all this praise.

Belle ate quietly for a moment, toying with what she wanted to say. Then looking closely at Peter she said, "Now I understand why Carl was so adamant about bringing you down here and making sure you were treated special. You are a very special person, Spiderman."

Pete just froze, his fork halfway to his mouth.

Judge decided to continue the conversation, "Only the Missus and I saw the webbing. We could see that everyone else was not in a position to witness what you actually did. So you needn't worry about the others. As for us, we are just thankful that Carl felt he could share you with us. Your secret is safe. Now, will you please do what you came down here for and heal!" A smile creased the gentleman's face.

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Dr. Carl Jackson was at his desk. He had been trying to get through to his sister to let Pete know that he had a long and fruitful talk with Mary Jane. His receptionist poked her head in. "The phones are finally back up, and I have your sister on the line."

"Thanks," and he lifted the handset, "Hi Belle, did you get any of the hurricane by you?"

He sat there in silence listening to his sibling. As she gave him an account of the past several days, his smiling face melted into a scowl and his eyes widened. Standing abruptly he bellowed, "WHAT?!!!"

The end.


End file.
